Worm 40k Idea Repository
by Existential Insanity
Summary: A place for Worm and Warhammer 40k x-overs that live in my brain and shared to you lovely people. Open to suggestions.
1. Chapter 1: Night Lord

A/N: Konrad Curze inspired Taylor. Worm is sorta Superhero grimdark, which is still noblebright by 40k standards. But basic premise is that the Emprah interferes with the shard bonding with Taylor through inter-dimensional god-powered bullshit and a paradox-poker favor from Tzeentch. Konrad was actually a fairly decent guy/ruler. The Night Haunter would make Batman soil his spandex. Two people in the same body and those two people get shoved into Taylor who acts as the bridge between them and provides a noblebright goal: be a hero, be the monster who hunts monsters. KC and NH are suppressed heavily, just the knowledge and some memories (that flash through). And it makes Taylor into a Matriarch.

So she gets standard Primarch upgrades. Gives her Bruiser(While no invulnerability innately, super fast healing, bones are basically impossible to break, super strong, and with PA probably gets bumped up to Alexandria levels or better of ability to tank damage), Mover(Low (2-3) rating but runs and moves fast and leaps crazy far and high), Thinker(Organic Supercomputer), Tinker(high rating because of 41st M tech), Stranger (2-3 from being the Night Lady), Striker(via tech) and Master (1 since she's inspirational like all get out and has a terror aura she can use) ratings. But has this theme in her head of Terror and Fear to control crime.

It doesn't really win her friends, but is stupid effective.

XXXXX

I slinked around the warehouse's roof, edging for a better position. Better line of sight. I certainly didn't need to move to hear them. To my now super human senses, which didn't see through walls, they were plenty loud.

It was not just some ABB bangers, but some ABB bangers and freaking Lung. And Lung was going to kill some kids.

First night or not, Lung or not, I couldn't let that stand.

I made sure my power pack was tight and dropped in, flinging my throwing knives at the bulbs, shattering them, and plunging the warehouse into darkness. They started shouting and I ghosted up to them. When I saw one of them shakily pull a lighter out I stopped just infront of him.

I had worked hard on my costume. I had seen how all the other heroes dressed. Bright, colored, occasionally revealing. Meant to inspire faith in the public. Mine was meant to inspire too. But not faith in the public, instead I wanted to inspire fear in the criminal element.

My mask, I did everything to make my mask terrifying. A humanoid bat's face covered mine. Like in those Earth Aleph movies. Even if the rest of my equipment could do awesome things, my mask didn't. I could see perfectly in the dark, smell at least as good as a dog, hear better than I could ever imagine. I was even pretty confident I could breathe in some toxic environments. A re-breather was in the works just in case.

He lit the lighter only to come face to face with my mask. I blew out the flame and into his face, before moving somewhere else. I was armored, but it was barely better than thick denim at this point. I had plans for armor, but not the means. And as I predicted, he screamed and began shooting where I had been.

I waited a moment letting them all freak out, all of them except Lung. Or rather, Lung was keeping his cool, but he had seen me too and his pulse had quickened.

"Come out, and maybe we won't hurt you so bad," he spat out into the darkness, even as he moved his men into a circle to defend from me. "I can light this place up and find you. If I have to do that, I won't stop burning until you are a charred corpse."

He stepped to the edge of his circle and blew out the strongest flame he could manage in his least form. Admittedly, it was impressive, must have taken him ages to get it down, and would have been intimidating if I had still been normal. I was, however on the opposite side of Lung and when the momentary flame revealed me took out, painfully, the mook in front of me.

He dropped screaming. A precision knife to the nerve cluster in his hip would do that. And the toxin coated on this particular set would cause hallucinations. Given that he was in pain, scared, and in the dark with the last thing he saw being my mask, he would begin panicking very soon. And like laughter, panic is infectious.

I disappeared, jumping straight up into the rafters. Jumping higher and farther than any human had a right to wasn't as cool as flying, but it worked for me. And it allowed me to dodge another blast of weak fire from Lung.

An interesting facet of Lung's power, was that only direct fighting really counted. He could make the inital shift, the one he was struggling to contain for now, but anything more than that and it would have to be direct. It seemed like it was tied directly into his regeneration. No regeneration, no improvement.

Of course, I could be very wrong, but there was a fountain of information and a derth of video of Lung.

I wasn't surprised when Lung did make the shift after I took out another mook. He did have the presence of mind to have his mooks grab the fallen ones and get out before he did though. Say what you want about Lung, but unlike Kaiser, he had something resembling care for his Boys.

His mooks would spread the tale of the monster that attacked them in the dark, but Lung, the Great Dragon that he was, wouldn't back away.

The fire that wreathed him and swiveling serpentine head eventually found me. Found me right as I dropped onto him and drove my claws into him.

These claws we weak and inferior to the grand ones in my mind. But the sparking 'lightning claws,' as I dubbed them, did their job tearing into his spine and cauterizing the wound. Lung might be immune to fire, but electric claws did the job. I rolled off of him as he writhed in pain before jamming a half dozen sedation knives into him. I stabbed him as hard and as fast as I could, so that the poison paste wouldn't burn off.

It was apparently hard enough to drive both braces of the knives up to the hilt. Given that I had punched a hole into one of the sunken rigs in the Boat Graveyard a few weeks back, Lung was stupid tough, even at this stage.

But it worked and the mighty dragon gave out a weak roar as he shriveled back up into a human with several knives stuck in his flank. I waited a few moments before approaching. A nudge with my boot didn't stir him. I carefully rolled him up to look at his back. Good, he was healing, but very slowly. Cauterization worked to slow him. I pulled the knives out slowly one by one ignoring the sudden gush of blood with each one. These wound were healing slowly as well.

If it had been anyone other than Lung, he'd be very, very dead. I had to work to refine my tactics. After all, I wanted to be a monster hiding in the dark, not a murderer. Even if it would do wonders for my campaign to mutilate the man's body and crucify him to a wall, head separated (just in case).

It wouldn't do, if I did as planned and joined the Wards. I did want some legitimacy, and Lung could fight an Endbringer. Which was useful, very much so. Though bringing in Lung should be a huge boon to my career.

Staying near Lung and keeping an eye and an ear open I pulled out my burn phone. Punching in the numbers was difficult with the claws. I would need to integrate a cell phone into my next model.

"PRT Hotline, how can we help you?"

"I need someone to come pick up Lung, warehouse on the corner of George and Smythe."

"Lung?! Is this a joke?!"

The operator sounded so flabbergasted.

"Do you often get people calling in Lung for pick up?" I asked idly.

"No... It's usually some low level cape they think is Skidmark..."

"I am very sure," I drawled, "That at my feet is the cape known as Lung and he and I are located in a warehouse on the corner of George and Smythe. If you want him to live, I expect someone here inside of three minutes. Otherwise, I will be forced to kill him."

"Whoa! Whoa! Hold-"

The line switched.

"This is Armsmaster, I will be at your position in two to five minutes, is that acceptable?"

"Yes."

I hung up and faced the group that I had just entered the warehouse mounted on giant monstrous dogs. It reminded me of something, a splash of memory, but the figures on the canines were far too small.

"Ave."

"Hello!" said the blonde girl in the domino mask and purple costume with rather forced cheer, "I guess we owe you our thanks, we heard that Lung was going to come after us, and decided on a preemptive strike. It probably wouldn't have gone well, so thanks."

"You are the children he wanted to kill?"

"We did steal from one of his casinos..." she offered, before looking a little panicked, she slipped back into her forced cheer a moment later, "Right, I'm Tattletale and I just remembered we left our oven on so we'll be going."

"Tattletale?" the one in the skull mask questioned his comrade.

"Yup, oven on. But before we go, you got a name?"

"Domina Nox."

"Lady of the Night? Isn't that a l-"

I didn't stop the hissing growl that left me and shut her up. I knew what 'lady of the night' was a euphemism for. But I was THE LADY of the Night. If she knew enough Latin to translate it, she would also full well know I meant Lady not lady. I was going to back the night in Brockton Bay and OWN it. And Latin was cool and not connected to any of the gangs in Brockton Bay. Even if 'Die Dame der Nacht' sounded way cooler, it would likely connect me to the E88.

"And the Protectorate is on their way, so if you-"

I cut her off again.

"I was the one who called them." And Tattletale paled.

"'Kay, thanks again, bye!"

And with a little urging she got herself and her compatriots out of there and my sight. If it had been anyone other than Lung at my feet and Armsmaster was coming, I would have followed them and caught them as well. They were, after that exchange, obviously villains, and not a small time hero group, rogues, or mercenaries.

And right as they left I heard something that sounded vaguely like a motorcycle. It stopped close by. Should be Armsmaster, after all who besides a tinker would have something like a motorcycle but not. As the door slowly opened and a bright light flooded the warehouse I lowered my hood and pulled off the scary part of my mask. I wanted to make something of a good impression. And the half face mask left would be fine.

While this man wasn't at the top of my hero list, that spot belonged to Alexandria, he did rank pretty high up there.

"You gonna fight me?"

I should have expected something like that, I did take out Lung and make a threat to kill him. On top of that, I was unknown.

"I'd like to think I'm a good girl."

"You threatened to kill him."

"Largely empty. I had to say something to get the operator's attention. But I'll bet when Lung finishes sleeping off my sedatives, he'll be more than a little angry. And while I would rather not kill him, I have no compunctions about taking a life to save my own."

Armsmaster nodded and lowered his halberd slowly.

"Reasonable. But you certainly don't look like a good girl."

While I was crafting an image to terrify, that still hurt a bit. I suppose in my pointy eared cowl like mask, black hoodie over my minimal armor, claws, braces of knives strapped in a few places, dark cargo pants, and black boots didn't paint a good girl image.

But since my figure filled out a bunch after my trigger I was definitely a girl. I had grown a bit taller, which was a little dismaying as I was already plenty tall, and fuller, much to my pleasure. I had something of a chest and rump now. Somehow I knew that I would grow even more, five foot nine inches just wasn't enough it seemed.

"I suppose you could say I'm trying for an image like the Earth Aleph comic Batman. Brockton Bay is getting closer to Gotham every year."

Something a little scarier than that, but true enough.

He seemed to mull over it for a moment and I looked at his chest seeing his emblem. The blue visor on a silver background that I had on a pair of panties. I was unsuccessful in fighting off the blush.

"You're telling the truth."

My eyes narrowed a fraction. There was no way he could hear my heartbeat like I could hear his. Then I remembered he was a tinker.

"Lie detector built into your suit?"

He nodded.

"Thinker?"

I shrugged. Which turned out to be a bad thing. My powerpack wasn't as sturdy as I thought it was. Later I would find a cable that had broken loose. The spark and crack sent a curse flying from my mouth as I practically ripped it off. Armsmaster fell back into a defensive stance at the noise and motion. I plopped it on the ground and pushed the necessary buttons to shut it down and flood the core with coolant.

It meant that I would have to make plasma again, setting me back a few weeks. I unstrapped my claws and their power cords with a few more curses and let them clatter onto the now nearly useless pack. I pulled the activation switch from my mouth with another curse.

"There goes two whole weeks of work."

Armsmaster calmed down again.

"You need a hospital?" he asked.

"No," I answered glaring at my pack for a moment, "And I'm rather surprised by that and that my strategy worked so well."

"What was it?"

"Kill the lights, spook the mooks, sedate Lung."

Another moment of silence passed.

"Please move away from Lung. I need to secure him."

I nodded and gathered my pack and claws, deliberately holding it in front of me. It would look as if I were impeded and given him some sense of safety. He wasn't. If I wanted to hurt Armsmaster, I could. My aim with my knives was beyond good.

In a few moments Armsmaster secured Lung and dragged him outside. I followed and watched the Protectorate ENE's top guy unfold some kind scaffolding and load Lung into it. While he did that I opened the pouch at the bottom of my pack and tucked the claws and their cords into it. When I stood and hefted the pack onto my back and re-secured it, Armsmaster faced me.

"You're a new face."

I nodded, "First night out. Only came up with a name a week ago. Domina Nox. It was still pretty hard to come up with a name. A lot of good ones are already taken or sounded too... un-heroic."

"I got into the game early enough that all the good ones weren't taken yet," he said. There was a small twitch of a facial muscle. Like he was suppressing a smile.

"But if you intend to be a hero, you should join the Protectorate. It'll help you find your limits and help you with funds for your tech. With those funds you can make better tech and have less malfunctions."

The gesture was aimed through me and at my non-functioning pack.

"I was thinking about joining the Wards..."

He frowned, "The Wards are for minors."

"I'm only fifteen."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"What is your pack supposed to do?"

"Right now? Power my claws. But the one in my head powers a whole suit of armor and much more powerful claws."

"And your claws, what do they do?"

"They get super hot and create plasma for cutting. These ones don't get quite that hot, because I had to deal with substandard materials."

"Why'd you get into a fight with Lung, of all capes, on your first night out? Especially if you were using 'substandard materials?'"

"He was going to kill some kids. They showed up, and I'm sure that they're villains. They stole from one of the ABBs casinos. They knew you were coming before I mentioned it."

I walked him through the whole fight this time. Including meeting the kids later, after hearing the descriptions, Armsmaster 'complained' about them. It was very useful information.

"They didn't seem very 'hardcore.' Tattletale seemed to want to leave almost immediately after meeting me, but definitely after I told her that I called you. She said something about leaving the oven on and hurried her team out of here."

"Could you have taken them?"

I frowned.

"I knew nothing about their capabilities, and I had to sit on Lung. I maybe could have held them here until you showed up, but they were in a real rush to leave. From meeting them until they left was less than a minute. I spooked Tattletale pretty bad just standing there."

Armsmaster nodded.

"If you're sure about joining the Wards, do you want to wait here for PRT van? We can get the ball rolling and tomorrow your parents can come sign the required paperwork."

I had to tell my dad? I lost a good portion of my composure at that. Big, strong, fast, sees in the dark, and telling my dad terrified me. Not because he would be angry or anything but because he would worry and... My dad might not be the 'World's #1!' but she had no doubt that he loved her and that he cared.

"I... uh... haven't-"

"That happens a lot. Talk to him. Tomorrow though. This isn't something that should be revealed this late at night on a Sunday."

I nodded.

"Now, who gets credit for Lung?"

What?

"Hear me out. What you did tonight was spectacular. You played a major part in getting a major villian into custody. You just need to think of the consequences."

"Consequences," I repeated with a frown.

"Lung heads the ABB, and its extensive. And he has two capes on his payrolls. Oni Lee and Bakuda."

"I know of Oni Lee, but not Bakuda."

Armsmaster didn't seem surprised.

"She's new. We don't have a lot of intel on her. She made her first appearance in waging a terror campaign against Cornell University. Lung recently recruited her and brought her here after the New York Protectorate foiled her plans. This is... concerning."

Terror campaign said a lot. It also made me fight off a smile. I wanted to show her what a real terror campaign was like.

"What do you have on her powers?"

"You know what the Tinker classification is?"

"Advanced grasp of science. Allows for manufacture of extremely advanced technology. Things like ray guns, armor like yours, advanced computers."

"And your power pack and claws if I'm not mistaken," he said with a nod, "Most tinkers, though, have a specialty. Something they're especially good at. Something other Tinkers have a hard time emulating. Bakuda's specialty is bombs."

I almost snorted. Bomb based terror campaigns were boring and easy. It made people fear for life and limbs. A real terror campaign made them feel afraid for their very souls. And that was hard to do without killing people. It took real skill.

This Bakuda was an amateur in terror as far as I was concerned.

Still, super advanced bombs. I wonder what she could make them do. Besides usual bomb type stuff. Like detonate with fire and concussive blast.

"I want you to be very sure that it is dangerous to take credit. Without a doubt, Oni Lee and Bakuda will have two goals stemming from this. Freeing Lung and getting revenge on the one responsible. These are scary people. Scarier in some ways than their boss."

That I smiled at. A cruel, frightful thing. I had practiced.

"Then I can show them how scary I can be, without killing a single one of them."

"And the civilian casualties?"

That brought me up short and my smile faltered.

"You have two options. One, get a move on and join the Wards. You'll have support and protection. Option two is to not take credit, and keep your head down. Fly under the radar."

I weighed my options. And thanked God or whoever for the ability to not need sleep anywhere near as much as I used to. Otherwise I'd probably just let him take all the credit.

"How long can you keep a lid on this? Tomorrow evening?"

"Not very likely. Late tomorrow morning at best."

I nodded. Guess Dad would be taking the day off tomorrow.

"Expect me and my father in the morning, at the PRT building. I'll send him in earlier than me, and I will come in costume. I will convince him to allow me to join the Wards."

Armsmaster frowned again. He didn't like that answer. Time to soothe his ego. He was going to be my boss. Maybe offering him the chance to take the lion's share of the credit, but keeping some fore myself. My reputation needed a boost somewhere.

"I'm sure that your bosses will be pleased to hear you recruited the cape that took out Lung. And I will be sure to remember the gallant Armsmaster who helped me get into the Wards and improve my tinkering. And the public would be glad to know that Armsmaster secured Lung with the help of his newest recruit, Domina Nox."

He seemed to mull over it for a moment and then broke into a small smile. And it was a smile that would give quite a few women weak knees, even if he were horribly disfigured. He probably wasn't. I bet he was actually rather handsome.

"I can agree to that. Though 'Lady of the Night' might not get approved by PR."

"Lady, capital 'L!' That's not hard to understand. I am not a hooker! If I were male it would be Lord of the Night!"

I huffed and he gave another smile with the shake of his head.

"I'll do my best to get them to approve it."

"Thanks."

With that, he gave me his Protectorate number and told me to call him on my way in, so I could get met by the proper people sooner rather than later.

"Can Miss Militia be there? My dad has a schoolboy crush on her, I think. Before Mom died she used to give him trouble over it. It would go a long way."

Armsmaster nodded with some obvious amusement. And then we parted ways. I leapt back up to the rooftops and made my way home, making sure to dip out of sight long before I reached my house. I didn't want anyone who I hadn't given my identity to, to figure it out.

XXXXX

A/N: So, Primarchs are literally designed to win at everything forever. And until the Heresy, they pretty much do. If there is a Primarch on the field, its pretty much in the bag lore-wise. So Tattletale's power looks at Taylor Curze and goes 'le nope. No chance. Super enough of everything that would ruin just about anyone's day. Do not get on her bad side. Recommend going legit. Cops and Robbers with her becomes Her and Stupid People.' If Contessa were to meet Taylor she'd probably worship her. The Path to Victory is considerably fewer steps with Taylor on board. Until Scion. But extend out the timeline and you can have a Matriarch and her Sons. All equipped with 41st M stuff.

When the S9 come to BB, they would be in for a very nasty surprise. Including a case of death. In true Night Lord style, because she can cut loose on them.

I had this thought in my mind that would make Panacea go gaga over Taylor because GG's aura makes Amy think Vicky is perfect, but Amy's power tells her that Taylor pretty much is. Conflicting lesbian love, but since Taylor isn't her 'sister' Amy goes for it. Like a poontang seeking missile.


	2. Chapter 2: Harlequin

A/N: Harlequin inspired Taylor. Also includes Bonesinger!Tinker!Taylor. Much jealousy from Armsmaster when that comes out. Though Kid Win is super excited about it and the two collaborate. Gets along famously with Clockblocker. Makes Gallant want to throw up though. Eldar emotions are so much more intense than Human.

She gets reworked into an Eldar because god-tomfoolery. And when she goes public with that info, eventually, it really helps out Cegorach's plans. Which is to have Humans and Eldar work together in Earth Bet's War in Heaven which has been pretty close to stale mate for 60 million years, because the Necrontyr (not Necrons) and Eldar have been fighting. No Orks, no (1 Old One who liked the Eldar enough to enhance them with its dying breath, before contact) Old Ones, no C'tan, so no Chaos (as we would know it). The reason the Necrontyr fight the Eldar is the same they fought the Old Ones for.

XXXXX

It was dark, dank, disgusting inside that _prison_.

She was sure that it had been Sophia who had actually pushed her in. But Emma knew. Emma knew she hated trapped in small, confined spaces. Ever since the accidental half hour in the still child-proofed cupboard.

Emma had betrayed her, on levels that tore at her very soul. Made fun of her mother's death, destroyed one of her mother's prized possessions. Emma flaunted her looks and wealth. Cutting her deep with words and actions that ruined the one thing she had over Emma, academics.

She had been weathering the storm of betrayal, crawling deep into herself. But this? She no longer wished to simply flee or ignore what was happening.

The switch turned from flight to fight.

Hate, burning, raging hate consumed her in that moment. She screamed, yet again, but pulled from the very depths of her being, pouring that hate into the scream.

And it was in that moment she saw great whales? worms? something like organic stars floating and twisting in some barely discernible shape. As she saw one of those shards hurtle towards her, a sword lashed out with a loud laugh accompanying it and shattered the shard.

What then entered her vision was a jester?

And that trickster gave Taylor an offer she could scarcely refuse.

XXXXX

The ears were easy enough to hide. Cegorach had hidden them for her. It was too early in the performance, for it to be revealed. After she had left the hospital, recovering from the infectious wounds and transformation, she simply used her hair to do most of the work. The rest of the changes to her body would take time or specialized equipment to notice.

Or she could simply punch something or sprint. She was rather strong and fast now.

And to her delight, she would fill out some and be a bit more feminine, never again mistaken for a boy despite her current and expected height. The First Fool laughed heartily while she pouted at him.

It had taken months to summon, build, and modify her armor, weapons and gear.

The armor was bright and dark, made up of many strange and clashing colors. Taylor supposed if she had still been untouched by the Great Harelquin, it would have hurt her eyes, as it was, it would make her difficult to track. It was topped off by a special cloak. Cegorach said it was his, and it was his gift to her. The Mantle of the Laughing God. Making her even harder to see when she didn't want to be seen.

Taylor's wrist mounted Harlequin's Kiss now had two settings. The first setting would wrap the person she was trying to catch in braided wires. It would cut and hurt but immobilize them without too much damage. The other was Lethal. Monofilament wires released inside someone's body was going to probably kill everyone she came across. Likely even regenerators like Lung, but not full on invulnerable people like Alexandria. The Lethal option was going to be saved for truly life threatening situations, dragon Lung, and parahumans with kill orders. The down side was that it required melee or just outside of melee range. But that was why she has her pistol.

There was no non-lethal setting. It fired a mono-molecular disk of a plastic crystal. It would slice through just about anything Taylor could think of. So she would have to practice her aiming, and look for non-lethal shots. It would have to be something she discussed with the PRT when she joined the Wards, like her patron's plan wanted her too.

A simple and elegant wraithbone sword finished off the whole weapons set. It was incredibly sharp and tough, but otherwise no more dangerous than a normal sword.

Then came her flip-belt. The only piece of gear that wasn't directly integrated into her armor. The ability to take it off and crank it up had lots of potential rescue applications. Personal anti-gravity was a marvel she intended to use and abuse. Just the little bit she used on it for nigh indefinite power would drastically increase her mobility. The short bursts of lifting people would last for a day or so, before she would need to recharge it with her meagre psychic powers.

Finally her kit was done. And she had been practicing her movements, her acting. So after making sure her father was asleep, she went out to be a hero.

XXXXX

Lung was beyond frustrated. It took rage to get him going, but sustained combat was what he needed to power up further. And just chasing a cackling madwoman around didn't count.

She had dropped into the middle of him and his gang on their way to fight and kill the Undersiders. She moved strangely. It was elegant, but still somehow... wrong. Different. Lung did not know the word he would use for sure. And then with a laugh she danced around all the mooks he had brought and laid them low.

She shooed those same mooks off when he changed and began launching fireballs at her. Even giving one a literal swift kick in the pants.

Looking at her hurt his eyes. The cacophony of shifting colors and light made even his draconic eyes water. Or rather would have, if they could. Either way, it made her much harder to hit, even in a glancing way. She would even jerk out of the way when he thought for sure he had her.

Then Armsmaster showed up. Lung's leg literally exploded in a burst of gore after she punched him there.

XXXXX

Lung's howls of pain were terrible to listen to.

"O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Have you come to claim the mighty Jabberwock? For I wish him to not be slain, but I cannot stop him without bloody rain!"

This was one of the strangest capes Armsmaster ever met. Female, from the slight case of boob-plate, and making slashing moments, just moments after flipping over to him in a dazzling display of gymnastics and sickening colours. She didn't even seem tired after fighting Lung for what seemed to be fifteen minutes. Her lilting and strangely melodic voice didn't even sound strained.

Still, he had no smart answer.

"What?"

"The Vorpral Blade have I, but should I use it, he will die! This should not be, will you not help me? Tick, tock, tick, tock! We are on the clock!"

She claimed to be able to kill Lung, but didn't want to. Understandable. And they had a limited time frame, Lung was healing from whatever she did to his leg in that... bloody explosion.

Armsmaster nodded and the cape slumped in exaggerated relief. He quickly grabbed his Lung tranquilizers and the two of them re-engaged a now mostly healed, and much bigger, Lung. He roared and spat a long stream of fire at the female cape. Dancing out of the way and underneath him, she punched him in the approximation of his crotch this time, and again there was a shower of gore.

Lung howled again and exposed himself to an assualt from a wincing Armsmaster, who managed to lodge three tranqs into the dragon. It took a few moments but the dragon slumped and thumped on the ground, shrinking rapidly. When he was human again, Lung didn't look so good, but Armsmaster's sensors told him that the man was still regenerating, though much slower than usual.

As long as the man didn't die. It would be worth a call to Panacea. The leader of the Brockton Bay Protectorate put in a priority alert for Panacea to meet them somewhere on the way to the holding cells, along with a immediate PRT response to the scene with medical personnel.

"Grievous damage, have I dealt, but surely, he will only end up with a welt?"

He looked at the new cape, because what else could she be, and took a moment to compile a good response. For her part, she looked worried about it. Hopping from foot to foot and wringing her hands. Her smiling mask morphing into an exaggerated worried face.

"I put in a call to the local healer as insurance, but its unlikely that he'll end up with permanent damage either way. What did you do to him anyways?"

She showed him her forearm where a tube was mounted.

"I attacked him with this, the normally lethal Harlequin's Kiss. A mode I don't wish to use, but myself over him, I would choose. Children, he struck out to fight. I, instead, fought him on my very first night."

The rhythmic and rhyming talk was annoying, Armsmaster decided. And she can do that kind of damage on her first night out? Was she a tinker that managed to slip under the radar? It would certainly explain the way she seemed to blend into the surroundings when she was still, and the lights that dazzled and distracted when she moved. A tinker/thinker combo?

Tinker tech designed to confuse and debilitate until she got in close and do damage? A villain? A cops and robbers villain with morals perhaps? Or a hero who simply had lethal tech because she had no mentor to help teach her, to work her tech down to non-lethal?

That had been Kid Win's issue and the reason he had joined the Wards before they even found him through the usual means. His lasers were too powerful. A problem a lot of tinkers had at first. Extra-lethal tech.

"Who are you?"

She straightened up and gave an exaggerated bow, her mask now smiling.

"With the fight I have been remiss, and with showing you the Harlequin's Kiss. But the Kiss is mine, the Harlequin is my sign."

Harlequin certainly fit the costume and smiling full face mask.

"With hope, I ask. After this task, was a good impression made? To be a hero, I was bade. To join the Wards, I was asked by my comedic Lord."

Bagging Lung solo would have been a huge feather in his cap, and from the looks of it, she hadn't fought Lung as much as dodged Lung. Bagging Lung and recruiting the parahuman who delayed the gang leader long and well enough for Lung to still be small enough for the tranqs to work when Armsmaster showed up would be just about as good.

"You can come with us to the PRT building, and we can start the paperwork, but since I'm assuming that you're a minor, we need parental permission, and we will need you to unmask."

That got a nod.

"It has been quite a bother, hiding this from my father. It has been quite the weight, but is there a chance, a night this could wait? For him, I wish to tell, and the Wards will be quite the sell."

"If you choose to not join the Wards-"

"I was told to join the Wards. This was commanded by my Lord. I shall not fail him, if I did, the future would be quite dim."

"Are you being threatened to join the Wards? Is this your way of saying you're a mole in the making?"

Armsmaster shifted into a defensive position.

But peals of laughter left the cape, who bent over, holding her stomach. Sirens could now be heard in the distance.

"Not for me, but for you. I have my Lord, but my words, you skew. I have a task, no reason for you to be rash. Co-operation is what we need, or else the Endbringers will do the deed. The First Fool has plans, for the glory of man. The Wards are the best way, perhaps you should listen to what I say."

Giggles kept leaving Harlequin. And Armsmaster was left trying to formulate a response. Luckily he was saved by PRT agents arriving and having to direct them to Lung. He decided that he would be very wary of this potential Ward. Was her 'Lord' some kind of super-thinker who knew more than the PRT and Protectorate's Thinkers? Why would he operate in the shadows? Perhaps he was threatened and had to act through another parahuman?

At least, she was convinced she was going to join the Wards.

"Here's my card. Call it tomorrow, after you've talked to your father. After the operator answers, give them the pass code 'Man at Arms Nine.' Its the phrase that let's them know you want to talk to me about recruitment, and it isn't an emergency. Use 'Man at Arms Eight' if it is a low priority emergency. If your parents don't take you being a parahuman well or something along those lines, use the second. If its an actual parahuman related emergency or a high priority emergency they will be able to help you directly."

Harlequin took the card with a flourish that continued into putting it away.

"Thank you, kind knight. You act with wisdom and might."

Armsmaster gave her a nod, and she left with a jaunty wave and a leap up to the rough tops.

Lung had finally been loaded up, when one of the senior PRT agents walked up to Armsmaster.

"Well, we got the dragon-man... That one is a strange one, laid him down with some serious hurt. Medics tell me he'll live, and we let Panacea know to stand down. Hero?"

"I certainly hope so. If she were a villain we would spend more time confused than fighting."

The agent just nodded at that.

XXXXX

A/N: I don't have any 40k books besides a couple of Codices, so I imagine the Harlequin speak in a lilting, rhythmic, rhyming way. Its certainly not perfect, because I blow at 'poetry,' but when I imagine the jesters and harlequins of yore, I've always imagined them speaking like that, or in a manner similar enough. And it would lend to the cryptic way Eldar talk, and make it even more confusing. But she only does this with the mask on or when she's in the Harlequin persona.

I have an idea for a Champion (not avatar) of Khaine curb stomp.

Anyways, **Taking (preferably in the form of reviews) Ideas/Votes on Next Blurb**. I will try to do ones where she joins the Undersiders as well. I do have 17 more Primarchs, the Emprah, 'nids, Fething Tau, Necrons, Eldar, Dark Eldar, AdMech, IG, Inquisition, Bolter Bitches, Orks etc. to choose from.


	3. Chapter 3: Wych

A/N: So. Not entirely happy with this blurb/snip/thing. Mostly because I had to write Nazi!Taylor in order to make it work, and I'm not a fan of Nazis. And I couldn't get to the Dark Eldar Wych bits as brazenly and as openly as I wanted to. And lastly, I couldn't think of how to write the recruitment of Taylor into the S9. Eeeeh. Lemme know what you guys think. And I didn't include how they found out Sophia was SS. I leave it up to you, dear heretics, loyalists, and xenos to come up with a Nazi gang banger scenario which she would be likely outed.

XXXXX

It started after I got back from Christmas Break, after I had been trapped in that locker. The school's E88 members and sympathizers were always around me.

Being followed and possibly protected by a bunch of Nazis was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me in my life. What made it worse, they were friendly to me.

"Okay, okay, not that I'm upset I haven't been picked on yet, but seriously, what the fuck?!"

Mark, the big Nazi poster boy and in grade leader of the E88, smiled at me.

"I'm not gonna let a nigger and a pair of nigger lovers get away with putting their hands on an intelligent, young, white woman. I had hoped you would have fought back. We would've backed you. But we can't let what happened stand."

"She," I said pointing at the Nazi poster girl, Jo (Short for Johanna), "Even said I was a 'kike' in middle school. I'm not Jewish or of Hebrew descent, but-"

"That was my bad," she interrupted, "I thought Hebert was a Jewish name, but its German-French. My daddy told me I was wrong, and..."

Here she looked down and away. Ashamed or embarrassed as best I could tell.

"Well, I thought you might have hated me and didn't want to talk to me after I tried to apologize and let you know I was mistaken. I wanted to be your friend then, but I thought you might have been Jewish... And then you screamed at me."

Sweet. Shivering. Baby. Jesus. FUCK. I even remembered that. I had inherited a bit of my father's temper, and chewed Jo the out. I could have had another friend. Granted that friend would have been a Nazi...

"Is this what my life has become?" I said as I looked to the sky, "My only chance at friends in high school are going to be Nazis?"

"Hey!" the dark haired John spoke up with an easy grin, "Nazis are people too!"

I kept my distance as best I could, but the E88 goons in the school were friendly to me. And defended me from Emma, Sophia and Madison. It was surreal.

But I was still so desperate for friends, I let it happen.

XXXXX

"Taylor."

I looked up from doing my homework in study hall to find a grim faced Mark squatting next to my desk, looking at me intently.

"Sophia Hess is Shadow Stalker,"

And with that my world came crashing down. I gathered my things and bolted, Mark and Jo chasing after me. But I was too fast. I blitzed out of the school and kept running, tears of rage and hate streaming down my face.

I had become a cape in that locker. I was suddenly passably fit, though I knew I could -SHOULD- be more. I don't know how that worked, and I knew I was stronger, and faster, my thoughts were clearer, my reactions quicker. And I had experimented enough to know that I couldn't find my limits on my own. I looked up to the Protectorate, and through them the Wards.

I was entertaining joining the Wards. Convincing my dad. I had worked up a really good argument, with lots of research.

I ran until I was in the Boat Graveyard. With a howl I punch the hull next to me, punching a hole straight through. I collapsed in a heaving pile of rage.

They had to know. There was no way the PRT and Protectorate didn't. It also explained why they had even been caught red-handed and still got away with it.

I thrashed around for a while longer, getting the violence out of my system. And finally, I thought I would give into those cruel whispers in the back of my head.

I was going to make the PRT, the Protectorate, and especially the Wards BLEED. And I knew just the people to help me.

XXXXX

I stalked into the area in which the E88 kids hung out in after school and right up to Geoff, the senior in charge of the Empire kids at school. I poked him in the chest before he could even get a word out.

"Give me your recruitment pitch, and make it good, and I'll tell you who's about to get promoted in the E88."

He led me around the corner, out of line of sight of the others(Probably to keep the peanut gallery from commenting), and gave me his spiel. And it was surprisingly motivating and informative. Never once did he explicitly mention anything resembling hate mongering. Rather Geoff preached protection of the European way of life. Its culture and its genetics.

He didn't say anything about 'subhumans' or 'niggers.'

"Okay, now give me the one where you're recruiting someone who already hates, absolutely loathes, at least one black person."

Now that speech was full of slurs and examples of why Geoff thought non-whites were inferior.

"So, we get to make slaves out of the sub-humans and kill those who don't submit? That's the grand plan?"

Geoff nodded.

I smiled brightly.

"Sounds good. Where do I sign up? If its gonna be tonight or something like that, I gotta call my dad, and I can't tell him. He wouldn't understand."

My dad was a good man. My mother had been a good woman. But I had been pushed to the edge, and fallen into the abyss.

Geoff was about to open his mouth again.

"Oh, and I'm a parahuman, so you might want to get someone important."

Geoff was on his phone in less than twenty seconds.

XXXXX

Geoff's hands shook as the phone rang. Dialing this number and displeasing who would pick up, wouldn't end well.

"Geoff, this had better be an emergency."

"It isn't, sir, but it is important enough to bring to your attention as soon as I became aware."

"Very well, what is it?"

"I have a recruit, sir. Mark was grooming her for recruitment, he let me know he told her Stalker's identity, before he ran off looking for her, after she bolted. I only passed up that report about a half hour ago, sir. She's the one who ran REALLY fast in the report."

There was a sound of shuffling papers and a folder opening.

"Taylor Hebert? The one who got shoved in the locker by the African sub-human? Ah, yes. It says here that Mark and Jo chased after her, but quickly lost sight of her. Mark estimated she exceeded his best sprint speed at a constant pace. He speculated in an earlier report that she might have gained powers, something about an increase in grace."

"Yes, sir. Her. She's confirmed it, though I didn't get a demonstration from her yeeeeeeeeettttt."

"Geoff? What's wrong?"

"She's, uh, holding me above her head, sir. Annnnnd, now I'm back on the ground. She's a cape, sir."

There was a moment of silence on the line.

"Sir?"

"Bring her to the southern most warehouse. The one where we hold rallies for the un-blooded. I will be there in an hour."

"Yes, sir."

And the line went dead.

Geoff looked at Taylor.

"Let's go meet my boss' boss' boss. He wants to meet you. Now. Can you call your dad on the way?"

Taylor gave a little half-smile and nodded.

XXXXX

Alexander, also known as Victor, smiled. He rang up his wife Odette, who was at home.

"Odette, darling, would you call Max and let him know we have a potential new cape to welcome to the family? The meet and greet will be in the bloodless warehouse, I'm off to pick up Rune to prepare the stage if it goes sour."

"Of course, dear."

XXXXX

It'd been a few months since I'd signed up with the Nazis. I didn't quite conform to the Totenkopf and Lightning Bolt standards though. I didn't look like their master race. I was tall, but I had never been all that curvy.

But my Hebert was English. So I wasn't quite top tier Nazi material but pretty high up. And I had a lot of Irish ancestry.

So my cape name was up in the air for a while, using 'Celt' as a stand in.

And then my 'Cape Sponsor' and trainer, Victor, took me out on my first 'patrol.' Normally he didn't do such things, but it was getting my feet wet, and as his favoured protegé, he followed in an advisory role.

We ran into some ABB, my goons and myself. I slaughtered them. My mooks weren't even needed. Using the long cruel trench knife I had 'crafted' and the long bullwhip I had worked spikes into, I tore into the eight ABB gangers, and left eight mutilated corpses.

I enjoyed it. Laughing the whole while. Victor said I moved as if I were a vengeful phantom. And I came back to Kaiser's throne room, holding myself as if I were a queen, high on the praise.

And so the Morrigan was born.

XXXXX

"This is the third underground drug and gladiator den we've come across. From what we've managed to get out of those we've captured, is that the E88 owns them."

Director Piggot frowned at Armsmaster's debrief.

"That close to ABB and Merchant territory?"

"It seems the Empire has a new cape, called 'The Morrigan.' She uses Empire tags with a crow under them. She was the one to propose to Kaiser these fighting drug dens. Lure in the Merchants and ABB. From the Empire thugs we've captured, she pitched as a way to 'drain the inferiors of their goods and money, while making a spectacle of white superiority.'

And she apparently fights in these rings. The terribly mutilated bodies are because of her. Accounts say she dances through the blood spray, laughing and looking near orgasmic. The weapons she uses are a long, serrated knife, and a modified whip.

From the autopsies and accounts, we give her a tenative rating of Brute 3, Mover 2 ground-based, and Thinker 4. Some accounts have her fighting a dozen armed and armored thugs at once. Accounts and descriptions from informants and operatives say she is a tall, dark haired young woman, between seventeen and twenty-two, wearing a set of armor that's basically cut in half."

Armsmaster slid a rendition of 'the Morrigan' across the table. Indeed, Piggot mused, her armor, might as well be cut in half. Only her left side was armored. Notes on the drawing indicated that she usually carried her whip in that hand.

"What do our informants in the Merchants and ABB have to say?"

"Our Merchant informants say they move a lot of product through these dens, so Skidmark isn't too interested in getting rid of them as long as they stay far enough away from his territory. Lung is making a pretty penny from his main money makers, and feels much the same way."

The ABB's main 'export' was whores.

"So basically, the one thing that's letting these happen is that ALL of the gangs are making money off of them. And the Morrigan is running all of this?"

Armsmaster nodded.

"From what we can tell."

"Why am I just hearing about this 'Morrigan?'" Director Piggot asked, turning to her intel department head.

"Accounts were sketchy and inconsistent. Until this third raid, we haven't been able to get much information on what actually was happening. Our Empire informants only turned in information on her when asked directly, and in exchange for re-location."

"Re-location? Why?"

"They said she is excessively sadistic and cruel to people she views as traitors. That body the BBPD found last week? That was her work."

Emily winced. That man suffered greatly. The Autopsy indicated he had been kept alive for days as he was slowly skinned, flayed, and had salt rubbed into the wounds. Literally salt rubbed into open wounds.

"The Wards are to go NO WHERE near this cape."

Armsmaster bolted from the room as alarms began to sound. Piggot pciked up the phone just as it began to ring. Within thirty seconds she had hung up and was dialing her counter-part in Boston, and Director Costa-Brown.

It seemed that the Morrigan had found the Wards.

XXXXX

A net descended onto Shadow Stalker, sparking with electricity.

"Hello, Sophia."

And a terrified Sophia Hess stared up at the cape who had just put Aegis down for the count.

"I think it's time I pay you back for turning Emma away from me. It'll send her a message, won't it? Your head sent to her in a box. Maybe even get her running. The hunt will be so amusing."

"He-hebert?" the captured cape managed to get out. This was that Nazi hang-around Taylor Hebert? When did she become a predator?

"The one and only. Come on, we have a very special treat for my adoring fans."

XXXXX

A video of the death of Shadow Stalker had been released, and quickly removed from the internet. She and the Morrigan had been placed into an electrified cage. One set up to keep Shadow Stalker from escaping.

To say Sophia put up a fight was an overstatement. It was clear that the Morrigan played with her, slowly wounding the Ward, until the sudden and violent decapitation.

The body was put on display in the Boat Graveyard, the head still missing, and a Kill Order was placed on the Morrigan, and out of town capes were sent in to help wipe out the Empire.

All it lead to was a pile of dead capes. Including Armsmaster, who took Morrigan's knife up through the visor, in an improbable strike. And a stregthening of the Empire, as their ranks swelled with capes and non-capes. The Merchant capes were slaughtered, and that territory was absorbed.

With the death of Oni Lee and the very recently ABB acquired tinker Bakuda, by the Morrigan and Victor (presumably) respectively, Lung tried to rampage through the Empire's territory, only to take a anti-material sniper round to the forehead before he could even get going.

Director Costa-Brown, Alexandria in her cape time, decided to call in Eidolon and Legend, only for Eidolon to get poisoned. He had managed to get nicked by the Morrigan when she dropped into a place where Eidolon was forced to close in on her.

Her long time friend screaming in agony until he died was almost enough to break her. Panacea couldn't be found to heal him. New Wave was frantically searching for both Dallon daughters, while the city fell down around them.

And if it couldn't get any worse, the Slaughterhouse Nine showed up.

The single bright side to all of this was the total disappearance of the Endbringers.

XXXXX

A/N: Taylor went on a murder spree. Killed lots of people. Managed to fight her way through some capes, and out-thought Eidolon enough to kill him with DE super poisons. I'm not really into DE so I know I didn't do this DE Justice. I did try to show case cruelty, gladitorial fights, though I downplayed drug usage. I went for a more Lelith type Wych than a full on druggie Wych that's a bit more standard.

My thoughts for Taylor v S9 would essentially be another murder spree, in which Amy, who was kidnapped by Taylor to make poisons, in exchange for Victoria being a love slave, and Taylor join up. Though Taylor would go murderhobo on a couple of slaughterhouse capes. And challenge Jack Slash for leadership.

Violence and more violence, some rape, and more violence.


	4. Chapter 4: AdMech KW

A/N:I had originally planned out this intricate, fully grimdark AdMech!Taylor, and I'll probably write that out one day, but I had this idea at work. Why make a Tinker!Taylor when I can just make Kid Win take a few levels in badassery? And then I decided to make it silly, because the levels of fuck-awesome rape against the Endbringers and Scion, with 41st M tech, are very, very, very high. Like high enough to the point of silliness anyways. And I haven't seen a lot of Taylor/Kid Win out there, so I gave it some of that too.

I've been forgetting this: Discalimer: GW owns 40k and Wildbow owns Worm. I don't and I don't make money off of this Fanfiction.

XXXXX

Kid Win, aka Chris Tall Cryss (It still wasn't as bad as Dennis Danger Dynamite, though Clockblocker loved his name), had a tinker-piphany at the start of Christmas Break. And since there was no school and tinkers were Weird, no one really commented on it, not even his parents, who had gotten used to his 'tinker fits.'

But what really happened was that Kid Win took some levels in Grimdark, and the Deus Ex Machina itself, had chosen Kid Win to bring forth the technology Mankind needed.

Instead of that alien space magic bullshit. It should be HUMAN space magic, Emperor-self-damnit!

XXXXX

"Chris?"

"Yeah, Dennis?"

"Why are you wearing a beanie?"

"To hide the surgical scars of the implanted neural wafers. I'm also wearing a turtler neck to hide the surgical scars of the implanted machine cant voicebox."

"Okay. Tinker bullshit that I should probably run screaming to Armsmaster for?"

"Yeah. Make sure your entrance is suitably dynamic and dramatic. Given your personality, it would be illogical to be anything else."

"Right. Bye."

"Bye."

... A few minutes later

"Armsmaster, stop _tinkering_ with Dragon! Kid Win had been TINKERING ON- Holy shit, you are actually... Wow, I'm sorry. But... Chris operated on himself, we need to go. Like now."

"Okay, let me put my pants on."

"Thanks for understanding, Clockblocker. And for having a good reason to living up to your name."

"I won't mention it to anyone if you send me a good still."

"Done."

"Dragon! You can't poss-"

"Colin. Do you want the whole world to know what we really do when we _tinker_?"

"Right. Dennis, lead the way!"

XXXXX

Dean thought the Servo-skulls that Chris had gifted them all with as his Christmas present was a little creepy, but cool as fuck. Victoria on the other hand...

"AMY! AMY! KILL IT WITH FIRE! ITS A FLYING SKULL!"

"I'm, um, sorry, Dean. But Vicky has an actual dead body phobia."

He sighed as his girlfriend wrecked the coolest gift ever.

XXXXX

Emily Piggot was practically salivating.

"So as you can see, the Mars Pattern Lasgun, is extremely simple to construct, only needing a proper manufactorum, which a repurposed gun factory, mixed with a little glass making, would be fine for."

Chief-Director Costa-Brown, who had actually shown up in person, practically had stars in her eyes.

"And its a universal technology, so you can scale it down, give it a smaller power supply and you have the Mars Pattern Las-pistol, or scale it up and have star-ship grade weapons, like the Mars Pattern Lance Lascannon."

Legend was literally holding himself in the pre-squee, knees together, hands clasped in front of his chest, position, staring at the squad portable Lascannon that Miss Militia was setting up on the firing range, that Kid Win had gestured to.

"I have plans for a slightly larger variant, known as the 'Laser Destroyer,' that should be able to penetrate even Behemoth. But should those fail, for whatever reason, I have the weapon next to Miss Militia, also on today's test firing range, and also with a full range of sizes, but not as universal, the Magna-Melta. It is designed for void usage, but is small enough to be mounted on a variety of vehicular platforms."

Eidolon wiped away a tear. The M1-A3(!) Abrams tank with a Magna-Melta was a thing of beauty.

"What I propose, to the PRT, and to the Protectorate, is that we punish the Endbringers. We are Mankind, and though the flesh is weak, we are tool-users. Let us give them the mightiest tools of war we can. No longer shall we sacrifice dozens of capes, and hundreds of PRT personal, resulting still in civilian losses in the thousands. Now? Now, we shall slam shut the very gates of the Apocalypse."

Back in Cauldron's base Contessa was not sure that the revised Path to Victory should start with offering her body to the young Tinker was a good plan. It should start with something a little bit more solo- Ah, there it went. It was a good thing that the young man in question was still handsome, though by a non-standard opinion. Maybe his 'mechandrites' could be re-purposed for some hentai-tentacle play.

Bak at the firing range, after the awesome display of weaponry, Director Piggot, cleared her throat.

"Perhaps as a field test run of how effective these weapons are in the hands of people with normal capabilities, we wipe out Nilbog?"

"Yes. So much Yes," Chief-Director Rebecca Costa-Brown said with a wide smile on her face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is not all I have to offer!"

The attention was drawn back to Kid Win.

"Each of these weapons is requires no more maintenance than Today's 'modern' weaponry. Basic maintenance is possible by even those un-initiated into the technology of Mars. Furthermore, I also give you the future of medicine! Those, however, are going through a more rigorous testing, by the PRT, as makes perfect sense. Ships capable of space flight! The ability to Terraform almost any planet and survive on those that cannot be! Even things as simple as faster-than-light communications! Extended lifespans! I offer you this and more!

All I ask in return, is that I be allowed to found the Mechanicus, as I have named it, have colonization rights to Mars, and be allowed to spread the wonder that is the Omnissiah!"

Kid Win made a vaguely cog-like shape with his hands over his chest and bowed.

A door opened up out of nowhere and a sharply dressed woman stepped out wearing a domino mask and a (absolutely bitchin') hat.

"Say yes."

Two-thrids (all) of the Triumvirate slumped with relief.

"Yes, so much Yes."

The woman nodded and then threw herself at Kid Win, who ran away, her in pursuit, screaming.

"Give me your babies!"

"The flesh is weak!"

Emily Piggot eyed the Triumvirate.

"Secret, behind the scenes part of the PRT that's only known to you three and the members of that part?"

"Yes... She's the weirdest one. It does a lot of the *ahem* type of research on Parahumans that is frowned upon, but is still completely legal."

"I can live with that."

XXXXX

The woman in the bitchin' hats (she changed them every few hours) followed him around. She was everywhere. Except the bathroom, or in his house, but she was outside those places.

Always looking for babies.

If he still had the weaknesses of the flesh, he totally would have said yes. She made that suit really work.

And then he stumbled into a no-name cape with bug control.

It was really cool. She liked his tech, and even had bunches of ideas, that sent plans spinning around in his head. In exchange, he offered ideas on how to more efficiently use her bugs, based off the Servitor Skitarii tactics he had locked away in his brain. They went and got ice cream while the lady in the suit beat Lung. Again. Angrily.

It was not a date.

XXXXX

"Totally a date. Creepiest date ever, but totally a date."

Damn you, Gallant! Damn you!

"Maybe you can teach her to be a tinker like you. Think of all those places a bug could get and help control your machines."

Praise the Omnissiah! Dean had great ideas!

XXXXX

Leviathan rose out of the water, only to promptly fall back into it as a bright light lanced forward and through him. Through his chest, and leaving a really big hole in the ground that the bay's water rushed to fill.

"Omnissiah Vult, bitches!"

The single Thunderhawk that Kid Win had managed to make began to do victory laps around the bay.

XXXXX

"And, I, Kid Win, shall use my Servitor Skitarii to first clean out and salvage the Boat Graveyard, donating the salvaged materials to the rebuilding of Brockton Bay and the restoration of its Ferry."

Taylor, as Skitter, ran up onto the stage. He had surprised her with this. Pulled up her mask slightly, shoved his to the side as a cloud of bugs descended to hide their faces from the world, and kissed him with all the passion and weakness of her flesh she could muster.

The woman in the suit looked downcast off to the side, but nodded, her part in his Path to Victory was over. She would return to Cauldron, and face her grounding by Docotor Mother like the grown woman she was. But several large tubs of Ice Cream would have to be consumed first.

XXXXX

"Hey, Scion. Say hello to my little friend."

The golden man turned, angry written across his face. Then that anger turned to confusion as plasma engulfed him, burning even his cosmic body into nothing. He wasn't one of the Yngir that ate stars!

"Stormblade beats everything!"

Clockblocker patted his favourite gift from Kid Win. He had a tank. How many people could claim that? On top of that, it had been instrumental in saving the world. His 'clock' wasn't going to get blocked for a very long time.

XXXXX

Eidolon lounged on a beach towel, still in full costume, for whatever reason, a drink in his hand.

His eyes, however, were latched onto Alexandria's bikini clad teenage bottom, the woman tanning herself on a towel next to him. Forever sixteen, and boy did she make it work.

Retirement was a nice thing, though he still would go out and fight street level crime on occasion, using the weaker powers, as a mental excercise. To feel the rush he had gotten in the early days.

Retirement was also a nice thing, because Alexandria didn't. And all that pent up energy turned into raw, teenaged hormonal sex. With the occasional extra participant.

It was good to be Eidolon. He tilted his drink in salute as cyborg Kid Win passed by, with a bikini clad (and very nervous, though Eidolon didn't know why, she was a looker, if a bit thin for his tastes) Skitter clutching tightly to his arm. Her usual swarm left off the beach.

Armsmaster was playing beach volleyball with a flesh and blood Dragon. Kid Win had crafted her a body after confirming she had a soul. They were playing against the former villains Tattletale and Regent in a minimal power usage game.

Eidolon laughed as something Hero used to joke about came to mind. 'Tinker Master Race,' indeed. Despite the advantages you'd think the 'villains' had, the Tinker Twosome were winning.

"Eidolon," came a sultry voice from nearby, it was Alexandria, "Lets go find a more private place."

"Yes. So much Yes."

The world was a much nicer place, all thanks to Kid Win and the Deus ex Machina. Cog-boy for the win.

XXXXX

A/N: I will revisit AdMech at some point(I have a silly AdMech!Taylor idea that involves her repairing things, and when she repairs them, somehow a lasgun is involved). So if you were disappoint, don't be. **Also, these aren't one-shots** per se. Some of the ideas will get revisited and revised(Wych!Taylor for example). Others will be redone, and some will receive bonus chapters. At least in snippet form. I have one between NightLord!Taylor and Glory Girl that does not end well for GG.

CREEEEEEED!Taylor is really popular, and that one will be really silly. Mostly because Taylor doesn't understand the meaning of restraint and loves to escalate. I haven't started on it yet. My goal is to put out something once a week, barring RL issues. Some will be longer, some will be shorter. I plan on putting bunches of the smaller ones into single 'snippet' chapters, so it shouldn't be too bad.

What I have currently in the works is a Sangiunius!Primarch!Taylor, a Bonesinger(Cause it has to happen)!Spiritseer!Taylor, and a Legion of the Damned!Summoning!Princess of the Imperium!Taylor. But any one of these can wait if there's a really good idea that crops up. Like this SisterSeraphim!Taylor I have bouncing around in my head.

I've also been thinking about a Magnus!Primarch!Taylor and how to work that. It would have to involve some serious daddy issues.

A question for you heretics, xenos, mutants, and loyalists reading this: I feel like I've been having more success with rewriting the Lung scene, but felt it would be boring to hash out the same exact thing in different ways 90 times. Do you also feel that way?

And finally: Thank you guys, the response from the last chapter was AMAZING! Really riding the high, hoping to keep it up. On my end.


	5. Chapter 5: Sangiunius

A/N: This was a big one. I sat down and words poofed into existence. I found a good place to end it and wrap it up and well, I quite like this one. Hopefully y'all believe its a sight better than my last two too. I also hope I kept everything in its rightful place and didn't make any character mistakes. Having the Travelers be vidyah gamers really worked out in this instance.

XXXXX

"Dad, I have wings. Everyone is going to know who I am. I can't hide it."

I fluttered my snow-white, speckled with blood red, wings. The wings made laying in the hospital bed I was in difficult. Panacea (And Photon Mom, at least) was rumoured to be on her way. Dad wanted her to make the wings go away, but I quite liked them. And wanted to see if I could fly with them.

Plus I knew that they had to be tied into why my vision was so weird. Maybe. I thought it was like I could see all the little lines that anchored reality to reality, and kept reality from going to that other place. The place where things weren't real.

"But-"

"I don't know how, but I know that I won't like joining the Wards. I just get a bad impression. If New Wave can't offer something similar, I'll join the Wards, but I'm going to be a Hero, Dad."

"You could get hurt," he nearly whispered, his voice layered with so much worry.

It meant a lot to me that he cared so much. We had been drifting apart, ever since Mom's death, and he tried to be there, but he always, honestly, fell short. He hadn't even noticed the signs that I was getting bullied, not that I had volunteered any information.

At least the PRT was going to thoroughly investigate Winslow. A situation bad enough to cause a 'trigger event' was something they should have noticed in the making with a Ward there. Especially when I had mentioned I had documented quite a bit of it.

Armsmaster got kinda pushy when I stopped mid-sentence and said 'I don't know what, but I wanna build something.' Apparently Tinkers were highly sought after commodities. But Dad, bless his heart, got right up into the man's face and told him to 'fuck off.'

I never thought I would get the chance to tell my dad off for language, but there you go. That was when Miss Militia stepped in, and we got a chance to have New Wave come in and make their recruitment pitch. Miss Militia looked like she had swallowed a lemon for a moment, but understood my reasoning.

I had wings. At least the Janitor who had found me in the locker had the presence of mind to call the PRT instead of the church when I tumbled out of the locker. And if I didn't want to get press ganged into the Empire (I was a white woman with wings, an angel or valkyrie, they would take advantage of that in a heartbeat) New Wave and the Wards were my choices.

I felt that New Wave should get a chance to make their sales pitch, considering how hard it would be to hide wings. Beautiful wings that were pure white with the occasional very red feather, that I couldn't wait to try out.

I REALLY wanted to be able to fly, or glide, or SOMETHING with them.

"Dad, we both know how easy and sudden someone getting hurt or worse can be. At least, this way, I could do something before that happened."

I said it gently, and took is hand in mine. He looked so sad, but nodded. And we waited in quiet, sharing in each other's presence.

A knock came on the door.

"Hello? This is Lady Photon, Laserdream, and Panacea, with special tag along guest Victoria, from New Wave."

My dad got up an answered the door. Say what you want about Lady Photon, but she was the nigh undisputed MILF of capes, the only one who disputed her status as Ultimate MILF cape was her sister. My dad had probably seen her on TV tons of times, but he was basically hit full force with that MILF-ness and gaped like a fish for a moment.

He greeted them but I saw his hands come together. He was twisting his wedding ring, like he did every time he saw a beautiful woman, reminding himself about my mom.

I was a bit puzzled by the introduction of Glory Girl as her civilian ID until she came in. She was wearing regular clothes and practically vibrating. She launched herself at me and floated in mid air, I felt something wash over me as she babbled on about how cool my wings were.

"Victoria! Aura!" Lady Photon snapped.

Victoria winced, and floated down, another wave of something washed back over me, but in the opposite direction. That was her aura? Wasn't I supposed to feel differently because of it? My dad was certainly in a daze, and oogling a girl much younger than himself.

He snapped to attention and quickly left the room with an apology, twisting the ring again.

"Sorry," Victoria said downcast before perking right back up, "I just got so excited, you have wings! Like a real angel!"

"I know, right? I can't wait to get cleared and to see if they'll work."

Photon Mom coughed into her hand and Victoria backed up looking a little sheepish.

"Its nice to meet you, Taylor, I'm Sarah Pelham, in costume I go by Lady Photon, or if you're feeling cheeky, Photon Mom," she said with a smile and an outstreched hand. I shook it with a genuine smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"With me," she gestured to her nieces and daughter, "are Crystal Pelham, aka Laserdream; Amy Dallon, aka Panacea; and Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl and very likely Grounded Girl when I tell her mother what she did."

That last bit was said with a bit of a glare that made Victoria wince and Crystal snort. Panacea, however, was pretty much staring at my wings. I stretched one out to her and she blinked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn-"

"Go ahead, its all I've been doing."

And I had been. I pretty much played with my wings every chance I got. Which wasn't as much I would have liked while I was still bed-ridden from my stint in the locker. I mean, I knew I was fine, but the doctors wanted to wait a few days or have Panacea check me out.

Amy reached out and brushed the feathers, in a little bit of awe.

"Oh, here," I reached over to my bedside table and retracted my wing, grabbing the big feathers that had been plucked out earlier, "Since New Wave is, hopefully, going to get me out of the hospital sooner rather than later, I want you to have these."

The feathers were handed out to the smiling women of New Wave who accepted them gracefully. Crystal set out to fit her red one into her headband stylishly.

"This is so cool!" she squealed, "A feather from an 'angel!'"

"I know, right?!"

Victoria was also trying to find a way to make hers work with her outfit. Mrs. Pelham tucked it away somewhere, and Amy held it close to her chest for a moment before doing the same. Panacea took in a deep breath before continuing on what I imagined was a very often repeated phrase.

"Do I have permission to heal you?"

"Yes."

And Panacea reached out and took my offered hand. She froze.

"Panacea?" I asked tentatively.

"Holy crap."

I didn't know if something was wrong or what but I was starting to get a little worried when she just kept staring at my hand.

"Panacea!"

That time it was Lady Photon in a scolding tone.

"Holy crap."

"Amy!"

Panacea managed to shake her head and regain her senses, before slowly withdrawing her hand.

"Sorry. You're fine. Perfect. I mean that. Perfect. Like. Wow. You have some extras, I guess you'd call them. Like you have two hearts."

I was a little stunned. My dad had just walked in, and smoothly interjected, like when Mom had said something weird or funny. And turned it around to make me feel like a princess, like when I was little.

"That's because Taylor is such an amazing person, she needed two to hold all the goodness she contains."

Now I was indignant and flabbergasted. God above, how I missed that from him.

"DAD!"

That got a round of chuckles out of everyone and diffused the situation, but I was still gonna give him a piece of my mind later.

"Um," Amy got our attention again, "So besides two hearts, and a vastly improved cardio-vascular system, there's a whole bunch of stuff going on. I'm not even sure what some of the extra organs do, but nothing, absolutely nothing, is conflicting. You have some serious stuff going on up in your head though. Like your brain is compartmentalized."

"I thought you couldn't do brains, Amy," Victoria asked.

"I can't but I can see the skeletal structure around it, dividing it into further sections than left lobe and right lobe. I... like some of those extra organs, I don't know what it's for. It's like you're a case 53, those 'monstrous' capes. Except you have none of the other hallmarks. Like amnesia."

That was a lot to take in.

"Well... I guess I'll have to donate my body to science after I die. Now, besides a clean bill of health, what else can New Wave offer me?"

Lady Photon saw the opening for what it was and we all smoothly transitioned into the recruitment pitch, with the occasional teenage interjection, or question from myself or my dad.

Like Armsmaster, Lady Photon was very excited to find out I had some tinker tendencies, but unlike Armsmaster, simply urged me to find a legitimate backer, be it New Wave, the PRT, or Toybox. Tinkers were very highly sought after in the criminal world, and would use my father as leverage. Having a legitimate backer would decrease that chance, or eliminate it entirely.

Joining New Wave would mean I would have that backer, legal representation, a transfer to Arcadia, a small stipend, and a team to train with and back me up.

But it was the family feel that I got from New Wave that really clinched the deal.

"I'd like to join New Wave, Lady Photon."

She smiled brilliantly at me, as did the rest of New Wave and much calmer and placated father of mine.

"Well, then Taylor, you and your father are invited to the family dinner tomorrow," she turned to my father, "If you come over in the afternoon, Neil and Mark can help you with the paperwork, god knows Carol has gone over it with them enough. It'll give Taylor some time to get to know the kids."

And that was how I signed up with New Wave.

XXXXX

It'd been a great Christmas break. I built a forge. A technologically advanced forge, but it was pretty much a modern take on an old school blacksmith's forge. I got to go shopping with the girls, I did need a whole new wardrobe, graciously paid for by New Wave. Nervously flirt with Eric, who flirted back brazenly before finally confessing he was seeing someone.

I tattled on him to Victoria and Crystal, and they chased him around the house. Threatening all sorts of terrible things. The things he said about me left me red for days though. It really was too bad he was seeing someone.

Amy spent a lot of time at the hospital, and came home looking very tired. I suggested she take a break, to keep herself from burning out. And I suggested she take up a hobby, like bio-tinkering a suit, since she was woefully unprotected.

Carol had been very resistant to the hobby suggestion, but had finally given into mine and Victoria's arguments.

My dad seemed a lot happier, now that I was. And we spent some meaningful time together on Christmas and New Years. I told him of my plan to see if I could convince New Wave to start cleaning out the Boat Graveyard as a PR stunt. He told me of his plan to get the Ferry going again, and I let him know I'd mention it to the adults on New Wave.

Then I got the chance to fly. And it was amazing, like nothing could ever bring me down. Amy expressed surprise that my wings could actually hold my weight. I explained my altered sight and the powers that seemed to come with, one of which included aiding me in flight.

The week between Christmas and New Years was filled with power testing at the PRT building. Which was two fold, it would register me with the PRT (which is what the PRT wanted), and let myself and New Wave have a pretty good grasp on my powers.

I was tentatively rated Brute 6, Mover 3/5(Flying), Master 1(Thinker sub-type), Tinker 2+, and an extra tentative Thinker 6. I was strong, hard to hurt, hard to keep down, and a very fast healer with redunant biology. I could run like the wind, and fly quickly. I was now apparently an AMAZING orator, but displayed none of the psycho-phisological effects of actual 'Masters,' something that a few Tinkers had displayed, like Accord, the villain out of Boston. Given a low Tinker rating, because I didn't seem DRIVEN to tinker, like most, and just knew how to build some things. I was told that my tinkering would be closely watched like every other 'sanctioned' tinker. And my brain was apparently now the equivalent of an organic supercomputer with a bit of pre-cog, but didn't 'divine' any information, though I could deduce with fairly accurate results.

I was a powerhouse, and boy did Armsmaster seethe. I also got to meet the Wards, including Victoria's on again off again boyfriend, Gallant/Dean. And including Shadow Stalker, who I now knew was the reason why I didn't want to be on the team.

Aegis/Carlos confided in me, after he had pulled me away, that Shadow Stalker was at Winslow, and since she had allowed, at the very least, the bullying that had gone on, and was on probation. She was likely to be sent to a Simurgh Quarantine (for the summer) or juvie (until she turned eighteen), her choice.

He also asked if I were willing to do a bit of patrolling with the Wards. Specifically with Vista/Missy, as Carlos believed she could do with a bit more Girl Talk time, and I was considerably more toned down than Victoria and Crystal. I would have to check with New Wave, but I didn't see why not, and told him as much.

All in all, it was a great vacation.

And then came my first day at Arcadia.

XXXXX

I TOWERED over most of the people in my grade. I was as tall as some of the shorter Senior boys. I don't know why I hadn't noticed it before. Perhaps I was a bit more self-conscious, entering an environment that had hurt me before, if given a cleaner skin.

I wasn't afraid. I don't think I could be afraid. During power testing I had taken Victoria's 'fear aura' on at full blast, and felt nothing. Between her shield and my brute rating, coupled with my immunity to her aura, we were a formidable front line.

Anyways, school. And Carlos out of his uniform cut just as an impressive slab of beef as he did in it.

... I didn't just think that. Note to self: NEVER TELL VICTORIA.

And everyone loved my wings. I had to stop myself from preening, I could be proud, but I shouldn't be arrogant. I wanted to be a hero, and in my humble opinion, heroes needed to be approachable and pleasant. Like Legend. Or Hero before his unfortunate demise.

Armsmaster would have sold me on the Wards if he had anything resembling people skills. Despite my wariness.

So, I did my best to remember faces and names, and even the stories that were told to me. Gwendolyn, for instance, lived with her uncle, because her parents had died in some unspecified way. Jack had a sickly grandmother who still somehow found the vigor to ask him all sorts of embarrassing questions. Samantha was very excited when I was willing to believe her claim of being descended from Himiko of the mythical Yamatai.

On and on the list went. Lives and names and faces. And it only further cemented my desire to be a hero. These were _people_, not numbers or statistics.

I spent a lot of time in my forge, getting my gear ready. A fire was lit within me. I wouldn't falter in my self-appointed task.

XXXXX

"You ready, Taylor?"

Laserdream poked her head into my workshop, where I had been putting on my armor and making sure my gear and spear ready. While the spear was mostly for show, I was powerful enough without my armor to subdue the vast majority of what we would come across, it was a fully functional tool of war. The blaster option was really only for Endbringer or S-class threats with kill orders, but it was still a spear with a monomolecular edge that made Armsmaster jealous.

Hell, it probably made Dragon jealous, but she was too busy squeeing over my armor's technology to care.

Ablative layers of ceramite (a ceramic type compound) plasteel (a plastic that was stronger than steel), mounted to a powered exoskeleton frame of a super strong metal I had been calling adamantium. I had been given the rating of Brute 9+ while wearing it. And I had allowed Dragon to have an actual closer look in the process in exchange for a donation to New Wave, a free ride on material needs for a few years, and a good word when I needed one.

Carol's response to the donation was: 'Look at all those zeros...'

But I digress.

I was ready, clad in my gold and red armor, adorned with the winged teardrop of blood I had taken as my 'cape-symbol.' There had been a lot of discussion on PHO on its probable meaning. Over forty pages of discussion before I came in and gave the definitive answer.

Wings, because I had them, but the droplet was to symbolize and remind myself of all the innocent blood that had been shed, what I fought and worked for. A day in which Mankind entered a Golden Age and no more blood was shed in anger, grief, or greed. A day where there was no fear of Endbringers or Villains.

Lady Photon wiped away a tear when I told them about it and gave the speech again. Eric recorded it and it went viral on MeTube.

"It's Arcangel in costume, Laserdream."

Crystal's response was to giggle.

"C'mon then Arcangel, let's go, time for your first official patrol."

XXXXX

"What do you mean you're 'not going to work for me anymore?'"

"Fucking Sangiunius!" came Trickster's reply to Coil, Sundancer nodding emphatically, "You have a Primarch in this city. I'm not going to risk doing ANYTHING criminal while she's flying around. Fuck, I'm seriously thinking about switching sides! She might be able to help Noelle too!"

Coil split the time lines, in one he shot Trickster in the face for anger relief before collapsing that timeline.

"Why are you so scared of a 'Primarch?'"

"Primarch were made to win at everything forever. And that," Trickster pointed so hard at the picture of Arcangel, "is a female Primarch or a Primarch's daughter. I don't believe in coincidences like that. The God-Emperor exists somewhere, she's proof, and I refuse to get on that man's bad side! And if knew what was good for you, you would get the fuck out of dodge too!"

Coil watched the Travelers go sometime later. A few split timelines and nothing could get Trickster to budge. He was terrified of this 'Arcangel.' Unreasonably so, in Coil's opinion. But perhaps there was something about her, after all, her PRT profile was a plethora of warnings. She had to be kept on the side of the Law. If she became a villian, the PRT theorized she would make the Slaughterhouse Nine look amateurish.

Perhaps he could get her on his side?

XXXXX

"Contessa, what are you doing?"

"Step 1: Pack for beach vacation. You should as well. Make sure to bring condoms. Step 5 is get laid."

"The Path to Victory is to get laid? And you are aware of that many steps in advance?"

"Frequently, and in celebration. The Path has become surprisingly simple. It's like something is going to win for us."

Doctor Mother frowned slightly.

"Well, it has been a long time. Time to get the dust out, I guess."

"That's the spirit."

XXXXX

Laserdream had seen a lot of things since she had become a cape. Done a lot. Heard about even more. But never in even her wildest dreams did she imagine she would see someone giving a partially transformed Lung a spanking.

"Don't!"

Smack!

"You!"

Smack!

"EVER!"

Smack!

"Kill!"

Smack!

"Children!"

The bawling Lung tried to interject.

"But they made a fool out of me!" his accented voice broke through the sounds of his bottom being paddled.

Arcangel sighed, like Photon Mom did whenever she was doling out punishments and Crystal or Eric had tried to justify themselves. Crystal was just simply blown away as Arcangel righted Lung and the grown man at least twice her age, sniffled and wiped tears away from his draconian eyes.

"Lung, you are a mighty dragon! But you have grown fat and lazy, you do not seek out challenges, nor do you act as a dragon of your stature should. Did you learn nothing from the tales of Ao Guang and Ne Zha? The wise and benevolent dragon is the one who prospers, not the tyrant dragon. Do you understand?"

"Hai," said the man, slipping into his native tongue for a moment and something Crystal actually recognized, "Jibo Kannon. I will think on what you have said."

"You will have to do it in prison. If you give yourself up to the PRT they might not send you to the Birdcage and let you out for Endbringers."

The man sniffled one more time before nodding again. He also gave Arcangel a great, big hug. That was when Laserdream heard the rapidly approaching Armsmaster. They had put in a call and the man said two minutes. Crystal knew it had been almost exactly two minutes.

Arcangel held Lung out at an arms length, and smiled at him. He gave her a watery smile and turned to face Armsmaster as he approached.

"Armsmaster, honorable foe, I, Lung, relinquish myself to your custody, and ask for leniency. There are foes that I must face still. Too long have I been a cruel dragon, forcing those around me to submit. Now I ask that I be allowed to protect those I once hurt."

"You're... coming quietly?"

Crystal could only imagine what was going on in Armsmaster's head. She had seen it with her own two eyes and still didn't believe it. Lung nodded and indicated Arcangel.

"Jibo Kannon, the Compassionate Mother Buddha, has told me of my wrongs, and how to right them. And I shall take my punishment as a dragon should. With grace and dignity."

XXXXX

Lung spent a long time in M/S lockup, and re-discovered Buddhism. His sentence was successfully reduced from the Birdcage, on the grounds that he would fight Endbringers. Dragon's much smaller almost birdcage is where he was put with others who belonged in the Birdcage but were on 'good' behavior.

'Jibo Kannon' promised to visit when she could, and made Lung promise to be on good behavior. He was the most well-behaved inmate Dragon ever had, save Glastig Ulaine.

Dragon was worried about Colin and his rising stress levels.

XXXXX

"Laserdream?"

"Yes?"

The two girls floated side by side, the powerful thwumps of Arcangel's wings the only sound besides the city below them.

"Did I really just spank Lung into turning himself in?"

"Yes."

"And he called me 'the Compassionate Mother Buddha?'"

"Yes."

"What the fuck?"

"Yes."

XXXXX

"I'm sorry, what?"

"We have come to swear fealty to the Blood Angel, in exchange for healing of two of our members. They're the reason we've been bad guys. Trying to get them healing."

Amy, who had originally answered the door, frowned even as the rest of her family fanned out some, Vicky standing resolutely before her sister.

"And why couldn't you get them healing before? Why not contact me through official channels? I probably would have done it anyways, and it would be a huge PR coup if you went straight afterwards."

Tricksters jaw flexed, but he was careful to avoid nicking himself on Branish's light sword.

"We're from Earth Aleph. And its really complicated, we don't exist here, and we drank some superpowers, one of us got really fucked up by it, is the short of it though. And while you're good. You're not Sangiunius' daughter."

"Who is Sangiunius? Some sort of villian?" Carol asked her eyes narrowing, was Taylor like Amy? Would she turn evil? Would Carol have to keep a super close eye on another girl?

Sundancer snorted and then answered.

"No, think Jesus, but way, way more badass. A hero's hero. But to really explain it would take a long time, and you probably won't believe me, but I don't believe in co-incidence like this. Her being the Blood Angel is such a small chance, especially when forty-kay never made it across. There is no way she isn't the real deal."

"Primarchs," came Ballistic's voice, from where he was behind a girl in a wheelchair, "Were made to win. Period. Primarchs win. Foregone conclusion. If we give her Noelle's problem, she'll figure it out even if you can't, Panacea."

"And then," Trickster spoke up again, "New Wave gets a bunch of new capes, reformed villains even, for how ever long the Blood Angel is with you."

There was a sudden thump behind them, and there was Taylor in all of her Arcangel glory, a golden light shining out from her face. Her anger palpable

"This will be explained, with all due haste, or the Travelers are going to become 'The Prisoners.'"

XXXXX

"This is WMUR News 9 at ten, and boy, do we have a story for you."

Danny watched the news with a small smile on his face. The picture within the picture was New Wave taking the Travelers into the PRT for debriefing and possible pardons/probation. Then it flickered to an unsteady camera phone recording of the Travelers kneeling before Arcangel as she spoke to them.

"The Travelers, a villain group of some repute, showed up at the Dallon residence asking to see 'The Blood Angel,' their name for Brockton Bay's Arcangel. To swear fealty, of all things. In a recent short press release from New Wave we have some additional information."

The shot switched to Carol Dallon in her Brandish uniform at a lectern.

"The Travelers are from Earth Aleph, and were brought here and injured during the Simurgh's attack. They subsequently became capes, though one of the powers of one of their members went wild, reasons unknown. As they did not legally exist and fearing the government response, they became villains seeking a chance to heal or fix their teammate's wild powers. The Travelers believe that between Panacea and our recent recruit, Arcangel, that New Wave is their absolute best and last chance. New Wave feels moved by their plight, and is endeavoring to help these people who have been dealt a terrible hand in life. Furthermore, for reasons also unknown at this time, the Travelers have sworn themselves to Arcangel's service in exchange for this healing. New Wave is excited at the prospect of helping the Travelers become productive and heroic members of society, though we will not allow them to escape what judgement the legal system ultimately doles out.

All parties are currently in agreement. And we hope to have secured the Travelers legal identities, and in accordance with New Wave philosophy, reveal them to the public, within the week. Thank you, and good night."

The screen switched back to the news anchor, but Danny ignored it as he quietly made his way upstairs to his daughter's room. Taylor was sleeping on her stomach and her wings twitched as she dreamed. He smiled at the scene.

This was his little girl, his little angel, here to make the world a better place, just like he and Annette had always dreamed.

She would be so proud.

XXXXX

A/N: So I tried to show why everyone (in 40k) was like 'yay Sangiunius' with the little Arcadia segment. Included a straight up silly response to Lung that I felt would be fairly in line with Taylor that early in her career and a Primarch's OP-ness. And let the rest play out really.

Since this is chapter five, I'm planning a few things for chapter six in celebration. Snippets for the first five chapters. Maybe a PHO interlude kinda thing, but mostly snippets. So we can look back on NightHaunter!Taylor and see her do something nifty, maybe AdMech!Chris will talk shop with Bonesaw, maybe Panacea will have a shojou moment in which Lung pops up and is all genre savvy. I have one or two done already, but its something to look for.

And finally, I'm thinking about making a Spacebattles account just for this, what say you?


	6. Chapter 6: Captain Slaaneshi

A/N: So not what I promised, but this idea came out of nowhere, like Creed's out flanking rule and a baneblade, and told me to write it. I think I could write more of it honestly. Like maybe a second chapter's worth, at least. Still on the hero trip though. But I've done the Wards a few times, New Wave, and this time its as a rogue. A Slaaneshi Rogue Hero.

XXXXX

There were voices. Maybe they would let me out? I began banging on the door and yelling for help as loud as I could.

"Ugh, why should I choose this one? She's in that nasty stuff. Wouldn't Nurgle want her?"

The first voice was smokey, seductive, and I had no clue whether it was male or female, just that it made me want to listen to it all the time.

"BecAuse tHis onE WanTs to bE a heRo, anD is PredisPoseD to seEkinG mAXimUm eFfect witH minImal Effort. She IS liKelY to Seek peRfeCtion Of heR crAft. PLus shE is reStraiNed enOUgh ThaT hEr eXcesSes wiLl be A poWerFul sAcrifIce."

The second was so many voices speaking at once, none louder than any of the others, but their inflections all came out making some stand out and others less noticeably in an ever changing way. It was so weird. Weird enough for me to stop banging on the locker door.

"Alright, this had better be worth it, Tzeentch!"

"It ShaLl bE SlaAnEsh, RemEMber to ActUaLly heLp, anD nOt To TWist."

"I know, I know, that's the hard part!"

The first voice sighed, and I was seriously getting a little worried. This sounded so sketchy. Did I really want to be saved by these people?

Something crawled across my upper lip.

Yes, yes I did.

"Get going, bird-face, I know you need to choose your champion."

There was a strange, queer popping, sucking noise and then another sigh. I knocked on the locker door.

"Um, help? Please?"

The door was torn off and flung away, I fell out of the locker and to my knees, but 'Slaanesh' (I think that was what the second voice, 'Tzeentch,' called the first) caught me and helped me stand up. And when I saw Slaanesh for the first time, I had never before been so sexually confused. Or rather confused about a person's sex and still was incredibly attracted.

"Bwuh?"

"Yeah, I have that effect. Look I have an offer. I'm a god. A Chaos God to be exact. In our main universe, the other Chaos Gods and I are really bad guys, but we are gods of _Chaos_. Which means we need to be the good guys, occasionally and randomly. So, you become my High Priestess here on Earth Bet and I give you powers and knowledge to go out and hero with. You also get a direct line to me if its an emergency, otherwise Zarakynel or Fulgrim can help you, those two are my most powerful lieutenants."

I closed my eyes to clear my head and have a chance to wipe some of the filth off my shirt.

"What are you god of? How do I worship you?"

Slaanesh struck a seductive pose that derailed my brain.

"I am Slaanesh, also known as the Prince of Pleasure, She who Thirsts, who is the Chaos God of Art, Culture, Sex, Drugs, and a few other things. The short of it is that I am the Goddess of All Things Pleasurable."

"L-like Aphrodite?"

"More like the debauched child of Aphrodite of the Greeks and Bacchus of the Romans. _Excess_ is a trait that I normally enjoy, but it does ruin so many followers. If you recall, Tzeentch reminded me to not _twist_ you, so I can't drive you into the heights of pleasure where there is no difference between suffering and joy. Which means I have to be excessively careful! Ooooh, I haven't done that before."

Slaanesh smiled brightly in excitement and bounced, his/her breast bouncing with her/him. How did I not notice that Slaanesh only had one breast?

"Twist me? Into what?"

"Oh, someone who only seeks pleasure and nothing else, where the lesser sensations are dulled and you can only feel when it is an extreme sensation. Like how drug addicts need a bigger hit as time goes on."

"W-what," I licked my lips nervously trying to wet them, "kind of pleasures would I have to offer you?"

"Anything. If it brings you pleasure it powers me. The more pleasurable, the more power. And were you to feast on that pleasure I would get even more power. Which I, in turn, gift you with. It can be something as benign as painting a wonderful painting and being happy at how it turned out, getting your sword technique just right and being delighted that you got it perfectly, or eating at this.. Fugly Bob's," Slaanesh shivered in delight, "It sounds so good and yet so very bad for you. Or you can go for things like orgies and drugs, which you would have to do at some point, but not to the level of my other followers, back home."

That... didn't sound too bad. It sounded like I would just be indulging in things, having fun, and getting good at what I did, and LIKING all of it.

"So if I ate at Fugly Bob's once a week or something and smoked weed a few times, that would be the usual level of worship for me?"

Slaanesh nodded.

"And, of course, your hero-ing, which would be done in my name. And hero-ing with finesse and skill over anything else. Seeking that perfect take down of even the most insurmountable enemy. You would, however, need to experience other things, besides victory and clogging your arteries, in order to... progress in my eyes. Decadence, opulence, hedonism. Enjoy life. ALL of it."

"Why are, are you-"

"Why am I being forthright? Because, like I said earlier, sometimes we Chaos Gods need to be the good guys, but that doesn't mean that its a free ride. I _am _still a god and that does require sacrifice and obedience."

Slaanesh took my face in his/her hands and gave my a soft look. I shivered in some sort of fear and anticipation.

"Look, Taylor, sweetie, I only have a limited time before I have to go back to the Warp, I can't stay much longer. I need an answer."

Dedicate myself to a life of hedonism, and the pursuit of perfection so I can be a hero?

"If I say no?"

Slaanesh clucked her/his tongue.

"You go back in the locker an-"

"Yes. I'll serve you," I interrupted. I did NOT want to go back into that... _place_.

And when Slaanesh smiled at me, I knew that one day, I wanted her/him to smile at me like that again. It was a simple but powerful pleasure in my eyes. Slaanesh kissed my forehead softly and flowed out of existence, leaving me standing, dazed in the hallway.

I pretty much sleep walked myself into getting clean, changing and going home.

XXXXX

I sat in my room a week later, doodling costume ideas in my notebook, while pondering how I was going to start effectively worshipping my new god.

How was I going to afford nice things? Especially with Emma and her goons ruining my stuff? Maybe Slaanesh was understanding enough I could get away with low-quality for now.

'You could find the cloth cape,' a very cultured voice in my head caused me to startle, 'She would enjoy your company, and the experience of trading work for a nice costume that you enjoyed would be a good start. Also, the Prince of Pleasure would remind you "Fugly Bob's."'

"Wh-o are you?"

'I am Fulgrim, Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, our shared God. I am to assist you when I can. Unlike Zarakynel, I often see combat with my sons. But I was once something close to human, and that better facilitates communication. Which can be done by you thinking _at_ me. I will answer if possible.'

"Oh," I felt silly. I tried thinking at Fulgrim.

'Um, by cloth cape, do you mean Parian?'

'Yes. It is also worthy to note, Parian is attracted to females and has no cape friends. Simply by being friendly, you may gain a potentially powerful ally, follower, and fellow worshipper that you can use to experience more carnal pleasures. Especially once you have instructed her on how to perfect her power usage. She is also very fashionable, something I enjoy.'

'You enjoy fashion?'

That was a bit surprising. I figured that the two lieutenants of Slaanesh would be all about more adult pleasures. Though I was still blushing at the thought of... doing things with a woman.

'When I was young, I brought a resurgence of culture and art to my homeworld. I have always felt that fashion, the theatre, and art were signs that a civilization was actually civilized.'

'Were you from an Earth too?'

'After a fashion, I instead called the world Chemos my home. Terra is where myself and my many brothers were conceived of and made by our "_father_..." I do not wish to speak of this anymore.'

Given the hatred I felt Fulgrim say 'father' with, I agreed.

'Okay, so a trip to Fugly Bob's and then to one Parian's possible shops.'

'Ah, yes her affiliates. An interesting shell game. Still, I am a Daemon Prince, I shall direct you to the one in which she is in for expediency.'

Fulgrim was a fairly nice guy, I decided. And he deserved a reward for being so helpful.

'Fulgrim?'

'Yes, Taylor?'

'Is there anything that you want to experience through me?'

'This.. dubstep. I wish to hear it. _**Loudly**_.'

'I think I can do that.'

XXXXX

It was called 'The Challenger.' Fugly Bob's version of waaaay too much food for free. IF, and it was a big IF, you could eat all of it in thirty minutes and not puke within two minutes of finishing it. But if you couldn't it carried an equally huge price tag.

If I failed in this daunting task, I would be out thirty bucks.

But I was salivating. Like struggling to contain the amount of drool that was pooling in my mouth. It sounded amazing, it smelled better, and the first bite was perfect.

Slaanesh, who had ended up shoving Fulgrim out of my soul (which is how, apparently, we communicated), agreed. After only ever tasting overcooked Grox prepared in a similar manner, the God(dess) of Pleasure moaned in ecstasy.

Eventually I finished the glorious meal, feeling stuffed to the gills. I undid my belt and pant's button. I let the waitress remove the grease covered plates and empty cup with no complaints.

"I think I'm just going to sit here and digest-slash-bask in my own glory for a couple of minutes."

I sat there, cheeks burning and tummy full, enjoying the sensations. Slaanesh enjoyed them too, just on a few more levels. The 'Higher' Being's moans during the meal were of a sexual nature and those affected me more than just a bit.

"I think I had a food-gasm," I muttered to no one in particular.

"I'll say," came the whispered response from a few table over. Maybe I hadn't kept my own moans in? Now I was extra embarrassed.

'Slaanesh?'

'Hurr, whu? Food coma, so good.'

'Yeah, same.'

There was a shift. And suddenly Slaanesh didn't feel satisfied to Taylor anymore.

'SLAANESH DEMANDS MORE! WE SHALL ENJOY THE DELIGHTS OF-'

Uh oh. This sounded like the start of twisting Slaanesh was supposed to avoid.

'SLAANESH! EXCESSIVE CAUTION! NO TWISTING!'

'Oh, right... Well, you and Fulgrim were doing something, I'll let you get back to it.'

The God leaving my soul felt weird, as did Fulgrim's entering it. Almost like something was moving around inside of my chest and head. I sat there for a few moments and Fulgrim waited patiently.

'Fulgrim?'

'Yes, Taylor?'

'How come you're so quiet? Slaanesh feels like s/he is always bursting with excitement and has a hard time being quiet.'

'I was a Primarch before I was a Daemon Prince. I know when to wait, so that the pleasure is greater in the end. My greatest pleasures are in War, Combat, and in the Hunt. I am a very good hunter.'

'Mmmkay. Teach me sometime?'

'Of course, Taylor. It is why I am here, Zarakynel will teach you some of the Arts belonging to the "softer" side of Slaanesh, like flesh shaping, and the use of sorcery. For now, I am your primary instructor, as you do not need boons to utilize some of the skill I can teach.'

I decided I really liked Fulgrim.

'You're a nice guy, Fulgrim. I hope we can meet face to face someday.'

'When you die, you will be drawn into the Warp and we will meet then, at the very least. Your soul is Slaaneshi, now. Should you prove your worth, She Who Thirsts shall not devour it, and you shall serve her for the rest of eternity.'

'And have the time to enjoy everything.'

'Yes. Now, if you have the capacity, we have a clothier to meet.'

I let out a loud, rumbling burp. It felt good to let the pressure out, and when some of the less mature patrons gave wolf whistles and started clapping, I did up my belt and made sure to give them a bow on the way out.

A while later I was standing outside a nicer looking shop just inside 'the Trainyard.' It was called the 'Sew What?,' which was fairly clever, I suppose. Fulgrim assured me that this was the shop Parian was in, so in I went.

Inside was full of bolts of cloth and mannequins with fashionable outfits on them. The shelves also held a bunch of very cute stuffed animals. It made my inner girly-girl squeal in delight. A beautiful woman of Middle Eastern descent came out of the back with an arm load of cloth. My presence surprised her, but seeing as she hadn't the forethought to put a bell on the door, _I_ wasn't surprised.

"Oh, hello! Were you waiting long?"

I shook my head and flashed her a friendly smile.

"No, I arrived just in time to see you come out of the back, Parian."

Her face flickered through abject horrified surprised before landing on nonchalance. To someone not as attuned as I was becoming to sensation, the whispers of cloth would have gone un-noticed.

"I'm afraid I'm not her, as you can see, I don't have the right hair."

I waved my hand dismissively.

"Peace, I'm not going to out you. Fulgrim told me where to find you. I'm not wearing a mask so we'll be even. I need a costume and hoped to cut a deal."

"I'm afraid I don't know any Fulgrims. Don't know why he would think _I_ was Parian."

"You wouldn't. He's my friend, very smart. Like 'makes most Thinkers look stupid' smart. You _are_ Parian and I am... I haven't actually thought of a name, but I go by Taylor otherwise."

'Zarakynel suggests something with 'Slaaneshi' in it. It is what you now are. Also, remember what we talked about on the way over.'

"I was hoping that going over a costume would help. I have some ideas."

I lifted my notebook.

"Why come to- go to Parian?" she lifted an eyebrow at me.

"Because I need my costume to be made of high end cloth, and, like I said, hoped to cut a deal. Would you _please_ stop trying to wrap my feet in cloth?"

As soon as I dropped that I knew she was Parian cloth had been hunting me from behind, trying to catch me. Likely so she could call up a doll Parian to stand in and 'drive me off.' She would need some ventriloquist skills. It would be something to see. Of course, I didn't let the cloth catch me, by moving around.

She frowned in response and the cloth retreated.

"You really come in peace? And you don't mean to break the unwritten rules?"

"I didn't know there were rules in the first place, but yes, I come in peace."

"Why does your costume need to be made from high-end materials?"

She put the cloth bolts in her arms on the counter and relaxed, and I wandered up to my side. I placed my notebook full of sketches down and opened it up, allowing her to look through my ideas.

"My powers aren't like yours. They still come from a soul eating higher being, but my soul eating higher being actually likes me. And I'm her High Priestess, so in order to please him I'm trying to follow the tenets while rogue hero-ing."

She looked up from my old style 'Royal Navy Uniform,' which was my one of my favorites alongside the 'Soviet Commissar,' with a look of total confusion.

"Soul eating higher being?"

"I could explain yours fully, but you'd forget. Its a taboo. Fulgrim says, though, that you get your powers from a being known as a Yngir. A Star God. Specifically a baby Yngir. My god, Slaanesh, really, REALLY hates Yngir, and wants me to kill it, while bringing Slaaneshi worship to Earth Bet."

Parian gave me a skeptical look.

"Right, Yngir."

"Its true. But the Yngir would make you forget if I explained anything more. Its part of their cycle. Can't be discovered too early, otherwise their plans go to shit. Anyways, costumes?"

"Why do all of your ideas have the right side of the chest shown? Some of these would look better if it wasn't."

"Slaanesh is both male and female. The right chest being shown is a way to emphasize male-ness, because the right side of Slaanesh's chest is depicted as being the male side."

"You worship a hermaphrodite god?"

"Slaanesh is the God of ALL Pleasures, male or female, doesn't matter."

Eventually we got down to the actually costume discussion and decided that the 'Royal Navy' would look the best on my frame and with my hair, unless I wanted to go something like a French Musketeer. Fulgrim and I agreed they looked silly.

A dark Purple pastel was chosen for the primary color with a electric pink for the undershirt, with white socks, black shoes and gold trim.

"And then I can wear a domino mask and the silly white hair wig! It'll be so cool. It'll be like your blonde wig, except, they'll still know I'm white, but whatever. And I think 'Captain Slaaneshi' sounds like a good cape name."

Sabah, as she eventually got around to introducing herself as, rolled her eyes.

"Now that we know what you want, we can start talking price."

My answer really flabbergasted her. And would have done the same to me, but I had been working up the courage to say it the entire time.

"I am fully prepared to pay with my body."

"Umm..."

"I know I'm only fifteen and am inexperienced, but I won't tell you if you don't, besides capes don't have ages."

"You're only fifteen?! Why aren't you thinking about joining the Wards?"

I gave her a smile and patted her shoulder.

"Goddess of Pleasures, Sabah. The Wards won't understand when I'm going to need to smoke weed, go skinny dipping with other people, dance the night away, or um... snort a line of coke, or... um... have sex."

I ran out of confidence, despite Fulgrim's encouragement. My moral filters were still mostly there, even if I was fairly quickly becoming okay with what I would need to do in order to worship my god. The boons that Fulgrim told me about sounded pretty awesome. Like being way prettier than Emma. Perfect Balance, Perfect Pitch, Attractive and Attracted to Beautiful People. All sorts of little things and the occasional big one. Like being completely fearless.

"It's going to be hard enough to convince my dad, let alone a government agency, that I need to do those things."

"So basically, you need to be a rebellious teenager?" Sabah said with a chortle.

"But cranked up to eleven. But Fulgrim and Slaanesh both say that I won't have to do as much in order to gain favor, because I'm a 'Hero of Slaanesh,' and I'm meant to counter-balance the Slaaneshi who do actually bad things. Like murder entire worlds in an orgy of blood, drugs, and sex."

"That sounds..."

"Worse than it actually is. It all happens in a reality in which Earth is called Terra. Which is still pretty bad, but it won't ever get that bad here, because Slaanesh is using me to experience the pleasure of being a good person."

We descended into silence. It was almost stifling and I wanted to say something, do something, but Fulgrim told me to wait.

Sabah motioned me into the back, and told me to get undressed for measuring while she got some supplies gathered. I took another cue from Fulgrim and went full monty, despite still having self-image issues. I felt prettier (I sorta was, the Prince of Pleasure had taken the liberty of granting me a much more fit body when I had accepted her offer, the best part, so far, was no more acne) and more confident, especially with a friend now, but being naked in front of another person was still... unsettling.

The way Sabah looked at me after she recovered from her surprise filled me with a bit more confidence. Enough that I stood straight, and took a chance or two in my positioning, so her hand would touch my bare flesh. It sent shivers of pleasure up and down my spine that I had to actively suppress.

"When do you turn sixteen?"

I blinked at the suddenness of the question.

"July. Why?"

Sabah took a deep breath, like readying herself for something.

"You work for me, help out in the shop here and get garnished pay, and out as a bodyguard when I do my shows, until July. When you turn sixteen, which is the age of consent here in New Hampshire, we can have a wild night. And as a bonus, I'll patch up your costume or make more when needed."

I blinked again. That was a pretty sweet deal. Some low key hero-ing to build up some reputation, affiliation with a peaceful rogue, and lesbian sex.

"I make no promises about my virginity being intact by then, but I can promise no STDs and no women before you."

Sabah's eyes glinted with something.

"Have you ever been kissed before?"

"Nop-mph."

There I was. Naked as the day I was born. Getting kissed, not pecked, but_ kissed _by a hot woman. Like the kinda kiss I imagined that would sear her forever into my mind as my first kiss. I enjoyed it and her 'meep' of surprise when I grabbed her by the butt and forced the kiss a bit deeper made it even better.

We pulled apart and panted a bit. She had to be able to smell my arousal, by now. Hell, she had to have been able to smell it when she was measuring my inseam and her face was about a foot from... there. I could smell hers. It was on the verge of being intoxicating.

"Deal. Now get dressed and I'll show you where my stash is."

I got dressed, Sabah closed the shop, and we got stoned. And maybe there was some giggling and some kissing and some wandering hands. Then I made my way home. Way later than I had intended.

Dad was very much less than pleased when I came home after eight still smelling like weed.

But when I told him I had got a job, and a friend, his riot act had a lot less oomph in it. I still had to swear not to smoke any more weed(I crossed my fingers behind my back), and promise that Sabah would come by for dinner sometime. And I was grounded for a month.

'A better father than mine ever was...' Fulgrim grumbled in the background.

'Do you want to talk about it?' I asked tentatively.

'No, I have hated him for ten thousand years. He has been a bad father for ten thousand years. Talking about it will not change the situation.'

I lay in my bed in silence for a few moments.

'Fulgrim, for what its worth, I'm sorry you have a shitty dad.'

'Thank you, Taylor.'

XXXXX

In my dreams I spoke with Zarakynel. She wasn't as pleasant as Fulgrim, not by a long shot, but where Fulgrim sought the pleasures of high society and the hedonism there(as well as the pleasures of War), Zarakynel was the representation of Mankind's low born pleasures. Rape, murder, sadism.

But she was beautiful, in a strange way. Four arms like the Hindu goddess Kali, and more breasts than I could shake a stick at. Long, slender legs that ended in hooves. And some sort of flesh hair. And just looking at that tongue made me wonder what it would be like to feel it on my body.

"You are not to feel my touch yet, Sweet."

There was so much promise in those words. I looked forward to it, and decided that being perky and friendly would be the way to go. Practice made perfect, and that would Please Slaanesh.

Zarakynel began filling in the knowledge I would need to utilize my new found status as a psyker. And that's how I found out that we were in the Warp. The Sea of Souls. And I was only a projection, pulled there by the Angel of Despair for my lessons. Which were also despairingly short.

Soon enough I was in the waking world again, and I set off on my run. Had to sculpt my body further than what the initial boon from Slaanesh gave me. The more beautiful I was without power, the more beautiful I would be with power.

That and Runner's High felt extra amazing when I was done.

XXXXX

A/N: Still working on snips for the earlier chapters, and feel free to submit your own. Maybe that way I'll have enough to post sooner rather than later.

Hear me out. The thing with Chaos Gods is that each one also represents something GOOD. And since they are gods of CHAOS, sometimes they have to do something not shitty every now and again, to actually be Chaotic. And as a straight up hero/anti-hero/rogue-hero Slaanesh and Nurgle work the best. Khorne and Tzeentch would definitely fall into the 'Villains' on Earth Bet, otherwise you would deal with a very gimped worshipper. No Skulls for the Skull Throne when you can't take skulls. And 'Just as Planned' really only works when you can do bad things as well as good things. A villain would have that freedom.

I feel that Fulgrim would be a toned down in comparison to most Slaaneshi. Along with a lot of the high end Slaaneshi demons, because they would need to go to great lengths to actually experience pleasure. But when they do... hoo boy. And it would let Fulgrim have the experience of having a friend (and a sorta apprentice) after ten thousand years. And having friends is pleasurable. And his general attitude in this is of being a nobleman. Polite, respectful. While Fulgrim went down the Slaaneshi path, I feel like it was from being a perfectionist, and the high culture he always sought and fought for. Not from being a hedonist. So those would be his default pleasures, which are better obtained by acting like a nobleman. Plus Slaanesh has to be EXCESSIVELY careful, and so would Fulgrim and Zarakynel.

I felt like I did everything I wanted, and still did Slaanesh a good turn. S/he should be pleased. Let me know how I did? Review box is down below.


	7. Chapter 7: Some snips

A/N: Here are some snips of the other snips.

XXXXX

Wych!Taylor

XXXXX

The singing was beautiful. He would say that it rivaled even Shatterbird's voice in beauty. Jack recognized it. 'Ave Maria.'

His candidate stood in the ruined opera house singing to a non-existant crowd. The piano being played by one of her current compatriots. Rune, he thought the cape's name was. He let them perform. And as soon as it finished he began clapping, letting Rune flee.

He didn't let his surprise show, she had been expecting him? When was the last time a cape _**expected**_ to be recruited?

"I am the Morrigan, Mr. Slash. The Queen of Death. And I am gifted far beyond others in my chosen craft. Raised above the rabble."

She glided, each step precise and seductive, towards him. Her dark hair glinted with sharp objects woven into it.

"Do you dance the Dance of Death, Jack Slash? Or do you fumble blindly, stepping on Death's toes, like an over-eager virgin prom date? I am flesh and blood, yet I have slain Eidolon, because I was the better Dancer. You had to cheat, and use the Siberian to kill Hero. Weak as you are, but I could raise you up. Teach you the steps."

She stopped eight paces from where he was.

"You knew we were coming," he said, the smile on his face growing wider.

"Of course you would come. Pilgrims to worship their goddess. As the Teeth and the Fallen did before you. And they knelt, only to die, when they tried to usurp me. You come, yet you do not bear gifts."

The whip lashed out, suddenly in her hand, and cut his cheek, but his smile didn't falter.

"Prostrate yourself, and I shall forgive this trespass."

"And here I was thinking you could join my fam-urk!"

The whip lashed out again, wrapping itself around his neck. He felt the small spikes dig into his neck, cutting deeply when she jerked him forward, stumbling forward a few feet and landing, with little grace, on his knees. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"It is not I who will be joining your inferior family, but rather you will be tested Jack Slash," she stepped forward and leaned down to whisper into his ear, "and the rest of the Slaughterhouse Nine, to see if you are worthy of my cult."

His own hands blurred, gifted as he was with Bonesaw's enhancements, into his pockets for his razor, only to receive a knee to the solar plexus that sent him flying. His flight was abruptly twisted as the whip uncoiled around his neck.

"Run, Jack, back to your family. Perhaps I will finally have a worthy challenge."

Jack did run, but the smile bloomed back onto his face. He already knew she would be a challenge and a perfect fit for his family.

"Bonesaw!"

This was anything but what Bonesaw expected. Panacea looked absolutely delighted to see her, though the floating Glory Girl behind Panacea was trying to glare a hole through the young girl.

"How are you doing?! Come in, come in! Vicky just put the tea on. We just _have_ to talk shop!"

"Big Sister?"

Amy just looked starry eyed for a moment, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

"A 'big sister?' Me? Vicky?! Did you hear that? I get to be a big sister! Just like you! Hopefully, my little sister won't fall in love with me, because I love you so much! It would break my heart to break hers."

Panacea called out to Glory Girl even as she ushered Bonesaw in, bustling her in, and almost immediately began mothering her. Straightening the younger girl's dress and clucking her tongue at the blood stains.

"Those will never come out," Amy groused.

"Big Sis, how'd you know I was gonna be here?"

"Oh, Ta-" Amy cleared her throat, "The Morrigan told me. She just finished sending Jack Slash scurrying like a little mouse. She's so excited to play with him. Its not every day she gets to meet a potential equal! Like you and I! Ever since I switched sides, I've been wanting to discuss how you do what you do and compare notes. I have some absolutely devastating all natural poisons, and would love to see how they stack up."

By the end of tea time, Bonesaw had been absolutely wowed by her chosen Big Sister. Even Glory Girl had thawed out some ('Call me Vicky') and shown that she was really cool and smart (Just not in a Tinker way) too!

When Jack showed up an hour later, he came across the adoriffying sight of Riley and Amy curled up in a ball covered in the blood and gore of whatever project Amy had been showing Riley after the two descended into a tinker 'fit.'

"You so much as attempt to take Riley back, and I'm going to pull your spine out through your anus."

But Glory Girl wasn't asleep and she looked at him from over her cup of tea. That she was sharing with the Morrigan. And for a man who had spent decades slaughtering people, that look was terrifying.

He decided to head back to the rest of the Nine, and plan out killing the Morrigan.

XXXXX

NightHaunter!Taylor

XXXXX

"Glory Girl is a vainglorious villain who is playing at being a hero because she wishes to be worshipped, she is not a hero, and she should be punished for her criminal usage of her master-rated aura and wanton destruction of property. She is a thug, a bully, and a criminal."

Nox (formerly Domina Nox) was dividing the Wards. Gallant steadfastly refused to hear anything bad about his on-again-off-again girlfriend, Vista was torn between supporting Gallant and Nox, Kid Win loved Nox in a non-romantic way because of all the help she was giving him (Tinkers unite!), Clockblocker actually agreed with Nox, Shadow Stalker hated anything to do with Nox and was supporting Gallant out of spite, and Aegis was doing his best to keep the team from falling apart.

And that was the statement Glory Girl and Panacea walked into. Victoria skipped bristling and went right into launching herself at Nox with a suddenly full blast aura and a roar of rage. Who dodged every single punch, kick, and grab the blonde Ms. Dallon made, with such contemptuous ease it was almost as if it were choreographed.

"Case in point, her first response to a statement that she doesn't like is to flare her master ability, and then attack the target. That is thug and bully behaviour. The fact that none of us here are in the commission of crime makes her aura usage illegal. And that would be six attempted potentially lethal hits."

Nox spun and her clawed and armored hand wrapped itself around Victoria's face and held the struggling Glory Girl at an arms length. Nox' armor had come a long way since her recruitment and was barely being dented by the force of Glory Girl's blows.

With Glory Girl in tow, Nox walked over to the wall and hit the alarm button, which inside of forty-five seconds flooded the Wards' lounge with PRT agents (Who had just started being equipped with tinker-tech that was easily mass-produced, repaired without the use of a tinker, and provided for by Nox) and Miss Militia.

"Miss Militia," Nox looked down at the senior parahuman from behind her bat themed mask, "I would like to formally charge Victoria Dallon with attempted assault with a parahuman ability, criminal use of a parahuman ability, and harassment. I do pay attention to PHO and what she has been saying about me. I'm also sure that you or the PRT will not 'lose' the camera footage or the statements she's made on PHO?"

"Of course not. She will go to court like anyone else accused of a crime."

Given that Emily Piggot and Rebecca Costa-Brown had basically been doing whatever it took to stay on Nox' good side since the reveal of lasguns, there was no way that footage would be lost. Plus the Protectorate ENE had been waiting for a reason to bring Glory Girl in.

'Patron Saint of Collateral Damage' was the moniker that the PRT agents gave her. And that was only talking about the damage done to buildings, not people. If it weren't for Panacea healing her victims, and Carol Dallon being a succesful parahuman lawyer, the PRT would have brought her in sooner.

She was the epitome of Rogue Hero desperately needing oversight. One of these days she would kill someone. 'On Accident.'

And that wasn't even accounting for long term exposure to her master aura. PRT predictions and the limited data they had on Glory Girl's aura said that Panacea was not actually immune and that the aura was like a drug. Panacea was hopelessly addicted to her sister.

And Nox had taken up the crusade against the loose cannon all by herself. With no nudging or subtle play.

The case would make the PRT actually look like it could do its job, when it came to reigning in good intentioned Parahumans that were doing it wrong.

XXXXXX

Captain Slaaneshi

XXXXXX

They called it 'The Booth of Slaanesh.' It was named after Captain Slaaneshi, who later corrected them and the booth was properly named. She had been the first cape to eat and finish 'the Challenger,' and Fugly Bob's advertised that fact and got quite a bit of tourism off of it. It was also where Captain Slaaneshi liked to sit when she came into the restaurant, which was every few days.

The swashbuckling female cape always drew a crowd, always willing to say 'hello' to a fan and sign aurographs. She occasionally brought in Parian, who had taken to wearing an embroidered symbol of Slaanesh over her left breast.

Captain Slaaneshi had been acting as a bodyguard for Parian and a participant in her shows. The sailor themed cape was also patrolling the very northern edges of town, cracking down on petty crime in 'dazzling displays of acrobatics and skill with her cutlass.' She was also noted to shrug off bullet wounds.

Director Piggot hated it. She wanted to encourage industrious rogues, like Parian, but wanted to bring in rogue heroes, especially before they got pushed into joining a gang. And while Parian was known to be too old for the Wards, Captain Slaaneshi was on record as saying she was still in high school.

So Piggot sent in Aegis, the best at speaking without saying anything improper or getting side-tracked, when Slaaneshi was spotted at Fugly Bob's.

Aegis politely waited as his target signed a little girl's autograph book. The little one gave the Captain a peck on the cheek in thanks, before spinning around and gaping at the much taller form of Aegis. The girl squealed and asked him for his autograph too. He chuckled and signed her book. When he was done he looked at the Captain.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

She waved at the empty side of her booth and gave a smile.

"Go ahead. Seat's open."

He settled into the seat before facing the rogue who was giving him a curious look while munching on fries. If Aegis was being honest, the blush she sported and the little sounds she made were attractive, attention grabbing, and slightly arousing.

"As you probably know, I'm Aegis and I'm the current team leader of the BB Wards. I'd like to talk to you about the possibility of joining."

She made a go on gesture with her hand even as she found her straw with lips, her eyes on his. Aegis wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but he would later swear (to Dean and Chris) she was making little kissing motions with those soft looking, thin but pout-worthy, and very kissable pink lips, before sucking on the straw in such a lewd way with such a sexual moan, his cup was definitely no longer comfortable.

"Joining the Wards has a multitude of benefits: a steady pay check; trust fund that gets released after your eighteenth birthday, its expected that it gets used for college but its not necessary; a safe place to explore your powers; a team to support you; access to Tinker tech; and there is a possibility of a transfer to Arcadia if you don't already go there. At that's just most of the direct benefits. There are a lot of fringe benefits: academic help, psychologists, people who understand the cape life, just to name a few. Do you have any questions?"

"Can you take me flying?"

Aegis was taken aback, and did his best to recover. He would very much like to take her flying, since it meant her body would be pressed up against his.

"I think I would call that a fringe benefit."

"No, right now. I don't care about any of that Wards crap, it won't work out."

"Y-," Aegis cleared his throat, "You don't want to join the Wards?"

"Nope," she answered popping the 'p,' "Pretty sure that would end badly: me, authority, restrictions, none of that mixes. Now, back to the important thing. Will you take me flying? I'll make it worth your while."

Her hand went up and touched the corner of her mouth before sliding down her neck and into the valley of her breasts in way that left the inside of Aegis' mouth dryer than Death Valley. His mouth worked open and closed.

"You... uh... don't have to do anything."

She nodded.

"I've always wanted to fly. And since you're doing something for me, I'll do something for you. But only if we can do it while flying," she countered with a sly gleam in her pink-irises.

"Bwuh?"

"Wait here, I have to visit the ladies room."

She dropped some cash on next to her empty plates, and slid out of the booth. When she came back, Captain Slaaneshi gave him a small smirk and dragged him out into the night.

"Weeeeeee! Do another loop de loop! With a corkscrew this time!"

Captain Slaaneshi gave him a great big kiss, with tongue after he completed the aerial trick. Her arms were wrapped around the back of his neck and her legs were hooked around his, leaving her delectably writhing body pressed tightly against his. Aegis wasn't sure to be grateful for the cup or to hate it's existence.

"C'mon Kids! I've been waiting for five minutes! Not even Aegis can last that long as a virgin!" Assault yelled at the two of them. He received Aegis' cup to the face in response.

"I took my panties off in the bathroom," she whispered breathily in his ear, her hand returning the space that was previously occupied by his cup, after throwing it, causing Carlos to bite back a whimper, "They're yours, and so is my burner phone number, if you can impress me."

Aegis flew his absolute hardest, pulling out his best tricks.

"C'mon, Carlos, what happened next?" Chris asked, "And if it was good, do you think she'll do the same if I offer her a ride on my hover board?"

"It must've been good, smug face, smug emotion," Dean added with a grin of his own, while he was now thinking of ways to propose some in-flight shenanigans to Victoria.

"A gentleman never kisses and tells," came Carlos' answer. But he looked around and made doubly sure that no one had snuck up on them while he told most of the full story to the teammates he could trust to not make a joke out of it until he left. He reached into his pocket and pulled free a bright neon blue g-string, showed it them, and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Carlos leaned back and basked in their awe and disbelieving stares.

"On another note, I'm on monitor duty for the next month for doing whatever we were doing, not for getting caught by Assault, but for continuing to do it for another fifteen minutes."

"Worth," Chris said, "So worth."

XXXXX

A/N: So, I'm pretty happy with the Wych!Taylor snip and Captain Slaaneshi. NightHaunter!Taylor... I don't think I did as good as the original bit. And I don't know about you guys, but I'm not a big fan of Glory Girl. Well, I am and I'm not. Like would I be psyched if a super-hero like her debuted in comics? Yeah. But in a 'more realistic' world like Worm, why in the flying fuck isn't GG in jail/in the Wards? There have to be laws about the use of parahuman abilities, and iirc she uses her aura all the time, even at school. That HAS to be illegal and should warrant restrictions or sanctions or some sort of punishment.

What do you, my fellow heretics, think of these snips?


	8. Chapter 8: Necron Phaerahk

A/N: I had this idea, had to write it, ran out of steam. But this is a snip collection, and its still a fairly decent set-up imo.

XXXXX

I didn't like throwing up. Never have, never will. Luckily, I had been throwing up a lot less lately. Only about a hundred times in the past two months.

My swarm was building itself up without my adding to it.

I had been home from the Psych ward for about a day when I threw up the first scarab.

Let me run that by you again with a bit more of an explanation.

I threw up a super advanced mechanical bug shaped drone that I decided to call a scarab. The first of which I named 'Joey.' I stopped naming them after the fifth. A despite having over a thousand at this point, I didn't have to puke nine hundred five into existence, I still knew where Joey, Tasha, Robert, Annette, and Daniel were.

The instant the scarab hit the bottom of the bowl in a surge of black liquid from my mouth, I knew it was different from its brothers and sisters. The previous ones were builders and maintainers. The first time I walked into the basement to see a power generator I almost went right back to the psych ward. Or to the PRT.

But given that authority had never helped me before, I decided to wait and see what I could do. Or rather what my swarm could do.

The black metal and the orange lights were very pretty. Even if I didn't fully understand what was happening.

Back to Rambo, the newest scarab's name, he was sleeker, and I got this impression of... soldier from him. Hence his name. And since he was different he got a name. He flittered into 'life' and flew off into the 'tomb' as I had taken calling it. Likely to add his design to the forges that now built the scarabs.

My (formerly much smaller basement, the scarabs dug out and down a bunch, leaving current infrastructure in place) basement looked like what I imagined ancient Egyptian tombs looked like. Except black and orange.

If my dad walked down here, he'd probably have a heart-attack, before he survived and called the PRT.

I wondered where all the metal had come from, until Dad came home supremely chipper one evening a week and a half ago. The Boat Graveyard had been stripped of three of its bodies. Obviously, my swarm was using that metal to fuel its being.

"So..." I murmed to my swarm, they all stopped and I felt like I had all one thousand one hundred seven 'minds' paying attention to me, even the ones miles away, "Can you make me some stuff, so I can go be a cape?"

The scarabs seemed... happy? Like they were glad to have an actual goal, instead of just doing whatever busy work they had been doing.

"And you should continue to make more of yourselves, including more like Rambo. I'm going to need attack scarabs... And I need to know what you're all capable of and what the capabilities of what you're building me are."

A week later, when they had finished building the computer terminal I was capable of using, I almost regretted my choice of not going to the PRT. Almost.

XXXXX

The full capabilities of the technology spawned by the Scarabs was amazing. There was science so advanced it might as well be magic. And I was the one who wielded it. The ability to shatter worlds came as easily as did ending world hunger. I may have been a god for all the power I would come to wield through my swarm.

One capable of killing as easily as I could heal.

I could even pull my mind out of my frail fleshy body and place it in a nigh immortal black and orange one. Something I was currently a bit skeptical about doing.

I looked for suitable names, and double checked them on PHO.

Next week, Serket would walk the streets of Brockton Bay, looking to pull out the poison of the gangs, healing the city.

XXXXX

And then, I died. Or rather, I came very close to dying. And it wasn't even a villain or a gang banger that killed me. Or even something as mundane as getting hit by a car.

Miss Militia destroyed a good chunk of my body with her sometimes rocket launcher. I was blindsided by running into an early morning Protectorate-Empire fight that had come out into the streets. Hookwolf bounded in front of me, coming out from an alley, and I can only surmise the 'professional' hero didn't bother to look, because he lept away and I ate a rocket to the face.

Well, my lower body. My legs were blown off. And to further add to the indignity of it, she ran right by me, crawling to find my legs in my delirious state, without even a glance. It seemed like forever, but upon reviewing the logs later, it was close to a minute before my swarm descended on me, saving me, bringing me back to the sarcophagus I unknowingly had.

How many others had died because of heroes? How many casulties of the Protectorate had been blamed on the villains and the gangs?

I accepted the bio-transferrance, my flesh and blood were not going to survive, and prepared to sleep for another week, waiting on my new body.

XXXXX

I awoke to the internal klaxons going off. I had been discovered, my swarm had my tomb had been found. My flesh-father had grown worried when he could not find me and stumbled across my resting place, and, good citizen that he is, called the PRT.

I flexed my digital muscles and brought the terminal near the entrance to life, splashing an approximation of my new face on it, startling Armsmaster.

"Hello. What brings you to my tomb?"

Armsmaster frowned.

"Your tomb?"

"I believe, filth, that it is considered polite that guests should introduce themselves and it is also considered polite to answer a question when asked."

He really didn't like that. I didn't care. I was now a queen, a goddess, and he less than an insect as far as I was concerned.

"I am Armsmaster of the Protectorate ENE," he ground out though clenched teeth, "And we are conducting an official investigation into the presence of tinker-tech in the house of a missing person. What did you mean by 'your tomb?'"

"Does the Protectorate always do 'missing person' investigations for the people they've killed? This wouldn't be my tomb if Miss Militia had looked before blowing my frail and fleshy body. Or did that not even make the report?"

I waited a moment and pinged off my scarab that was jacked into the Protectorate and PRT computers and looked over the report, all before he could answer. I hadn't realized the reach my scarabs had until that moment.

"No, it didn't. Shame."

Armsmaster paled, what little of his face I could see, but the biometric readings did wonders for knowing how he felt. Like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar, not ashamed of doing wrong, but at being caught.

"Who are you?"

"Serket, who was formerly Taylor Hebert. Number thirty-six of Miss Militia's now confirmed body count. I submited the confirmation for her. I'm sure Hannah will be pleased to have her tally increased. It isn't half as impressive as your seventy-eight confirmed kills. It is certainly impressive compared to Hookwolf's measly dozen."

With a cry of rage, Armsmaster drove his beloved halberd into the console. It didn't even scratch the black metal. Necrodermis. Skin of the Dead. It was fitting.

"Oh, you go to new heights of rudeness! Fear not, for I am a benevolent queen, and I shall have my swarm escort you from the premises."

My scarabs poured out from the deeper sections of the tomb, pushing and herding Armsmaster and the PRT agents out from my house. Leaving them stripped naked in the street. Including Armsmaster. All of his precious tech, gone.

The swarm subsided and marched back into the house, save one. It fluttered and then a holographic projection left its back.

"Brockton Bay is my kingdom. It is no longer a part of the United States and will not accept Protectorate or PRT involvment. You have failed in your task of protecting the people here, and so I shall claim it. This is the first city of the Kingdom of the Pharaoh Serket. You have one day, one full rotation of this planet, to leave, or else I will force you out."

XXXXX

My swarm billowed out my house and descended on the Boat Graveyard, stripping it bare in a matter of hours, even while the Protectorate and PRT bickered and fought amongst themselves.

In the depths of my tomb, I saw now the lengths the Scarabs had been going to. Wraiths, Spiders, even more Scarabs, and a single Monolith woke, all connected to me in a quantum network of awareness. They exploded into action as the monolith in the bay rose above the water and began floating over to my tomb.

Priority was placed on constructing my new vessel.

Then I used my scarabs to hijack every channel on every news station and every civilian radio signal. My avatar appeared on every screen, full of zeal.

"Greetings to you, citizens of Brockton Bay. Do not be alarmed, for I bring news. I have died. Taylor Hebert is dead. Slain by not one of the gangers that pollute this once fair city, but by the true poison. I was slain by the Protectorate."

I could 'feel' someone trying to hack into my signals and shut me down. Dragon most likely. Her algorithms were primitive compared to those of the Dead who Walked.

"I was blown to pieces by Miss Militia, and not given a second thought. I was not even mentioned in her report. She did not even notice my presence, or the smear of blood I left on the ground.

She has killed over thirty people. Thirty six, including myself, that have been confirmed. How many more has she slain that there are no records of? How many has she destroyed and then blamed on Kaiser, Oni Lee, or others? I do not rightly know. But even she is an amateur compared to Armsmaster, Seventy-eight kills confirmed; Legend, One hundred eight; Alexandria, three hundred twenty four; or even Eidolon's mighty six hundred nintey seven. And those are confirmed kills. The records I am now accessing make no mention of even apologizing to the families of innocents slain.

Why would there be? Of course, every single one of these kills are 'master-controlled' or 'gang affiliated.' I assure you, I have never been affilated with any gang. Nor have I ever been in even proximity of any known masters. All I did was go running one morning and end up in the middle of a fight between the Protectorate and the Empire as it suddenly spilled out into the street.

Now you may be asking, how, if I am dead, am I speaking to you? I triggered as cape some months ago when the Ward, Shadow Stalker, also known as Sophia Hess, and her cronies, my former friend Emma Barnes and Madison Clements shoved me into a locker full of used feminie hygene products. I triggered as a tinker. And through my tinkering, my mind survived. By any legal definition, I am dead. But through death I have transcended flesh. I am reborn as Serket, and I now rule Brockton Bay. Where the gangs struck at you, I shall strike at them, no more will their presence be tolerated.

Where the Protectorate has failed, I shall succeed. I shall hold myself accountable for any deaths of any innocents. I shall not act as a legal gang, but as your benevolent queen!

I offer technology so far beyond what any tinker can produce, all maintained by my canoptek scarabs and wraiths. I offer an end to hunger, to wanting. All shall be provided. Medicine that can cure any ailment. Even more, I offer immortality!

Unlike my other offers, immortality alone comes with a price. Swear to serve me for all time, and you shall have all time to serve. Ascend beyond the wants and needs of frail flesh! Wear the Necrodermis! Die that you may live forever!"

My avatar settled down.

"My forces are now even working through the city, fixing utilities, setting up power generators, matter constructors. Do not fear them, for they are here to help. Likewise, do not interfere, again, they are helping. Any capes who interfere, any capes who have sworn themselves to me, will be met with lethal force. Any riots will not be tolerated, but will be dispersed non-lethally.

I thank you for your patience and understanding. Your Queen Serket is watching, and hopes that you will live up to her expectations."

I withdrew myself from everything but the local news station. They could use an interview. It would help calm the fleshy masses.

XXXXX

A/N: Had some trouble with inspiration this week. Not anyone's fault, but I still wanted to put something out. Just a sort of 'hey, haven't forgotten.' And I did find a way to incorporate 'police' brutality and bio-transference. I'm trying to cook something up for Nurgle, spent a long while just staring at Typhus. Also Dark Eldar keep calling to me, since I didn't do so well with the initial Wych Blurb. Might go full Lelith instead of just Wych.

Also had this idea of Biker Tinker Taylor with White Scars flavouring. So many very basic ideas and not a lot to keep going with them. Calliope is not kind to me.


	9. Ch 9: Taylor thinks Tyranids are cute!

A/N: You guys chose Taylor and Tyranids! It's a little cracky, but not in the total crack space of crack. More like having hidden hobbies that are cracky and slightly embarrassing for big manly men to have level of crack. Taylor is a little OOC but she's the Hive Mind now, and freaking happy to have friends and children who love her unconditionally, that she is in contact with at all times. So she's chipper, kinda perky, and a little silly.

XXXXX

I hummed to myself as I walked down the street, my eight 'dogs' (And Krampus, who trailed behind me, looking threatening) barely tugging at the leash. They wanted to go explore, but I wouldn't let them.

Master rating for the win.

And even if Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen weren't under my nigh-absolute control (I let them have some autonomy, they wouldn't be very good pets otherwise. They just had to listen when I said 'no') I think they'd be likely to go hide. But unlike Josephine, who I 'birthed' first; Spike, who was really big and really lazy; or Primus, who was content to read books all day and extend the range she had making sure no one did anything bad; the 'dogs' and Krampus needed exercise.

So we went for walkies.

Dad was fairly okay with the whole thing, I suppose. Except maybe the increased cost of feeding everyone, except the dogs. Who strangely didn't eat. But then I met Mr. Kenta and Mr. Lee and they brought over non-descript meat for everyone who wasn't me or Dad to eat. Because they were really swell guys.

XXXXX

"Lee, we must never give that girl a reason to strike out at the ABB. Make sure she and her creations are taken care of."

Oni Lee stood next to Lung, both in their civilian guises, just having met Ms. Taylor Hebert, and nodded slowly. He tilted his head and a ghost of a smile appeared. She had been rather upset at her inability to feed her 'dogs.' And Kenta was a bit of a softy at heart.

"Great Teacher Kenta moment, huh?"

Lung gave his second in command a sharp glare, before palming his face with a sigh.

"I never should have talked manga with you."

"You make me help you with your doujins."

XXXXX

It was right in front of Mr. Kenta's apartment building when someone dropped out of the sky and onto the tarmac with a crash. That person was quickly followed up by a individual on a glowing skateboard who 'landed' next to the first figure.

The rust red costume and the red and gold costume identified them as Aegis and Kid Win of the Wards. They started me and next thing I knew I was surrounded by the chitin of my dogs and Krampus.

"Alright, you Nilbog wannabe! Come quietly and we'll see about getting you some leniency."

Oh, wow. What assholes.

"Gerroff!"

I pushed Krampus off, much to his disappointment. He felt like he had failed me in some way. I gave him a pat to reassure him and began to straighten out my leashes, ignoring the assholes who interrupted our walkies.

"No, Vixen! Get back into ranks! Dasher! Stop tugging!"

"Uhhh, Nilbog-wannabe?" came Kid Win's tentative voice.

I gave him the best withering glare I could muster. From the way they flinched back, it must have been a good one. Oh, everybody was giving them one.

"And what does the nimrod who rudely dropped out of the sky want?"

"We, uh, want you to come quietly..." Aegis gulped.

"What for? Am I being detained?"

Sure, some of the Dockworkers were some shady guys, and Dad wanted me to stay away from them, but some of them had been activists when Dad and Mom were. They made sure I knew how to screw with the fuzz, when I wasn't doing anything wrong.

The two shared a confused glance.

"No?"

"So then I'm free to go?"

Aegis shook his head.

"No!"

"So I'm being detained?"

As I was about to start the cycle again, the door to the apartment building opened and a heavily tattooed (The detail in the dragons always amazed me) gigantic Asian man in jeans and sneakers walked out. It was Mr. Kenta.

"Taylor-chan, are these boys bothering you?"

I gave Mr. Kenta a bright smile as he walked over to me and began petting my 'dogs.' He, and Mr. Lee, always got the dogs snacks or gave them pets. A lot of the people on my walk route did. They were nice people. And he called me 'Taylor-chan' which gave me warm-fuzzies. Not, the illegal (because I was fifteen and Mr. Kenta was older) warm-fuzzies, but the kind of warm-fuzzies I got when Dad called me 'kiddo.'

"Kinda, Mr. Kenta. They've stopped me for no reason at all! They even called me 'Nilbog-wannabe!'"

Meanwhile, the two Wards, as best as I could tell given their masks, looked about ready to brown their pants. Mr. Kenta straightened, and Krampus fell in behind the man as he walked over to the Wards.

"That was a very unkind thing to do, wasn't it boys?"

I thought the two of them had broken necks from the way they nodded.

"I think that you should apologize and be on your way. Taylor-chan has been walking her 'dogs' and her guard for the better part of two months. She has done less damage to this city than you have in that time. Apologize. Now."

Suddenly there was a bunch of squealing tires as Armsmaster, and Miss Militia drifted around the corner, her riding on the back of his motorcycle. It came to a screeching halt, that made my ears hurt. The two of them hopped off and I heard a helicopter in the distance, along with sirens.

Was I in trouble? I felt the rest of my family, sans Dad, start moving to my position. They were pretty pissed that this was happening. That certainly gave me warm-fuzzies. I puked up Josephine and a few of the others. They were my kids/grandkids. And they loved me, just like I loved them. They were certainly willing to brutalize anyone who gave me trouble.

Like that mugger. I had gone for my morning jog, ignoring the fact that Krampus had ignored my order to stay home, when he jumped me. Krampus... lived up to his name. Put the mugger in an impromptu sack and beat the tar out of him.

So while the Protectorate and the PRT rushed to my location, I calmly undid the leashes on my dogs. Mr. Kenta walked unhindered into an alley way, pulling out a cellphone. The capes on scene were shooting him worried glances, but Mr. Kenta didn't care.

"Stand down," came Armsmaster's voice, "and come quietly."

"Why?" I shot back, "I haven't done anything wrong."

"You are an unauthorized bio-tinker creating creatures like Nilbog. You will come quietly or we will take you down."

"I guess you don't like making friends do you? You like having enemies. I. Haven't. Done. Anything. Wrong. Threatening me is only more likely to make me not want to go with you. What's next? You're going to threaten my dad?"

"We have been unable to reach your father."

Miss Militia shot Armsmaster a look from behind the sights of her... it was an assault rifle of some kind. It plainly said 'Are you TRYING to make it worse?'

Now, now I was upset. My dogs began to circle around me in a shifting shield of chitin, and Krampus moved to directly infront of me. The helicopter was really close now and I could see PRT vans being unloaded behind the heroes.

They would actually try to threaten my dad? Sure he might have fallen to pieces worse than me when Mom died and was distant until I came back from that locker... But he was trying now. He even taught Primus how to play chess!

Then Primus, Josephine, and Spike came thundering around the corner and into the street, with two of them coming to a halt behind me. Primus thundered even farther forward than Krampus before stopping. The roar that followed would have done Lung proud, it felt like the whole world was shaking.

I walked forward, my chitinous bodyguard moving perfectly in time, and laid a hand on a obviously raging Primus' chest-level knee.

"Sorry about Primus. He's a bit of a momma's boy," I said trying to keep everything calm, despite hearing Josephine heaving up fifteen more (long range) dogs in the back, who quickly joined the front rank between me and the PRT/Heroes, "Very protective. I don't know where he get's his devilish good looks though. Probably from my Dad. It's kinda 'eww' but my mom must've found him attractive for them to make me."

And that was about when Glory Girl descended, ahead of an arriving New Wave, from the skies and popped me good across the face. Even as I flew back a good long ways and tumbled up next to Josephine, she got 'dog'-and Krampus-piled. Her shouts quickly turned to screams as my new grand-dogs ran forwards, shooting globs of and into the heroes, and Spike thundered forwards in after them. Primus roared again in challenge, engaging Armsmaster.

I rolled over and began the one part of my power that I wasn't too fond of. Puking up a kitten sized monstrosity. They ALWAYS were so cute at that stage too. I just wanted to cuddle their still slick and goopy body.

But instead of one, I upped many. A writhing mass of tentacles and teeth and adorable-ness that nearly made me squee. I managed to grab one, perfectly huggable and cute, before the rest surged off, and swarmed the one PRT agent who had managed to break close to me. Well, they were babies and hungry.

So they ate him.

I didn't feel bad, he had an actual gun and was pointing it me. I also didn't feel bad when the bloody, missing-an-arm, form of Glory Girl burst out of her pile and flew away. Bitch deserved it for popping me in the mouth. I called back the writhing teeth.

"STOP! GET BACK HERE! MOTHER IS VERY UPSET WITH ALL OF YOU!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

Quickly, my children pulled back, some of them limping quite heavily. Dasher was even missing a leg. Poor thing. The Heroes and PRT kept shooting/fighting/whatever for a second before Miss Militia gave a hold fire order.

Which was almost instantly counter-manded by Armsmaster, but she got right up in his face, shouting loud enough for me to hear, with a funny accent.

"NO! They will hold fire! YOUR shitty attitude and basic inability to deal with people made this worse! And FUCKING GLORY GIRL started all of this! Its HER fault seven people are dead and four trucks are destroyed! Not this girl's! She re-acted to a punch that would have killed a normal person! The girl is obviously lucid! She is open to diplomacy! DON'T make Brockton Bay the next Elisburgh just because you can't keep your halberd in your pants! I swear to High Heaven I will pull every favor I have to get you stuck in a tinker pit, only to be taken out when Lung or an Endbringer shows up!"

She was huffing and puffing and still very obviously angry but trying to calm down. Armsmaster turned slightly and croaked out a 'hold fire.'

I, on the other hand, was naming all of my new 'dogs' and my living teeth.

"Annnd you can be Sarah. You're Joseph. You can be Danny, just like dad. Stop acting so tough! You can be Kenta, like Mr. Kenta who acts tough but we all know is a big softy."

Mr. Kenta gave a cough, reminding me he was there. I gave him my best smile, which he sulked at.

Miss Militia stalked away from Armsmaster towards me. She stopped, briefly, and gave a great big shuddering breath. After moving forward a bit more, she stopped a respectable distance away from my horde. I was still in the process of naming the last one. And I just couldn't figure out a good one.

"Hello there."

"Hi!" went back to the older woman, cheerily, "Do you know any good names? I can't seem to figure out one for this little guy."

I held up the teeth-tentacle for show. She gave me a wooden smile. Well, I couldn't actually see her mouth but her eyes seemed to go from 'try to put me at ease smile' eyes to 'hoo, boy gotta keep smiling' eyes. Then those eyes got a gleam in them.

"How about 'Colin?'"

I gave her a happy nod.

"Colin is a good name! How can I help you today Miss Militia?"

XXXXX

A tent was set-up for the interview. Because I couldn't be too far away from my children(They would go nuts), and they didn't want me in the PRT or Protectorate building. We, myself and Miss Militia, made some small talk while waiting on my dad.

"You name all of them?"

I nodded.

"Makes me feel closer to them. I don't have any other friends."

Now, I was sure Double-M was frowning.

"How does a cheerful girl like you not have any friends?"

"Oh. Um. Emma Barnes used to be my friend, but then I went away for summer camp after my mom died and she met Sophia Hess. Those two and Madison Clements have been bullying me since I got back that year, and making sure I had no friends. They even went as far as to get someone to fake befriend me. So they could take it away," which I stated with as little inflection as possible. I really didn't like talking about it. But Miss Militia was one of those people you wanted to open up to.

"There should be a police report about the time they shoved me in a locker. Which is where I think I got my powers, 'cause it was weird and then a week later I started growing scales," I pulled down my turtleneck and showed her where the scales had grown up the back of my neck, "and puked up Josephine. She's the one who spawns the shooty dogs. Primus was the next day, and then the eager eight, as I like to call them, came out in pairs, all in one afternoon, the day after that. Spike and Krampus came later."

"Why didn't you call the PRT or the Protectorate?"

"I was afraid you'd take my babies from me, and lock them up in a lab or something. It took me two days to get Dad to agree to not to do it himself. Besides, other than the range issue, and other than when people attack me, they're perfectly well behaved and in control."

The American themed heroine raised an eyebrow.

"So when people attack you they go out of control? You called them back quickly enough."

"I was startled, and they protected me. My will is absolute if I want it to be. The first time it happened it was a mugger. Krampus wrapped him up in his coat and banged him good against the wall a few times. He was still moaning when I left him there."

"And you puked them up? A couple of them are huge!"

I nodded happily.

"They start out small, but then I fed them and they got bigger. Except the eager eight. I don't think they really eat. They don't poop or anything that would make me think they eat. The others," I frowned and my nose wrinkled, "They can be messy. But as best as I can tell, my stomach is some sort of genetic cauldron. Or my stomach acid is, because I keep getting these passing thoughts about digging a big pit and puking alot into it, and then piling food in there. Which is like a tinker urge, I guess. I read up on cape classifications and distinctions on PHO."

"How did you find out about your range and how do you deal with it when you're at school?"

My dad walked in at that exact moment, and quickly moved to embrace me. After we exchanged some soothing words, he answered for me.

"I came home and found her picking up garbage and the couch was ruined. Not any worse than a regular dog. But when there are more than one of them... 'Luckily' Primus came next, and both he and Krampus are a bit different when it comes to this range thing," he looked back at me, "How did you explain it, Kiddo? Like raido towers that can pick up and rebroadcast your signal?"

I nodded.

"So, I COULD go to school, or anywhere in the city. But I don't want to go to the PRT building so you can disappear me."

At that Miss Militia looked taken aback.

"We wouldn-"

Dad cut her off in a sharp and cold tone that let me know his temper spiked.

"Several Masters have been noted to go willingly into the PRT or Protectorate only to never be seen again, especially when their master ability is in a moral grey area or worse. Like there was... 'Beating Hear,t' who was a Heartbreaker kid who managed to get away, who could control six willing people or one or two unwilling, with sharing vision and other senses with Beating Heart as the filter. He was open about it on PHO and openly photographed going into the PRT building, then never heard from again."

Aegis walked into the tent, unnoticed by any one but me, since Fido spotted him on the way in.

"The PRT and the Protectorate have 'disappeared' law abiding or redemption seeking masters before. And given Taylor's power's resemblance to Nilbog, I looked up all notable Masters of her caliber on PHO and public PRT records. Every single one who went to the PRT is never heard from again. Any masters on the PRT or Protectorate's dime do something like the rogue here in Brockton Bay do.

Also, I'd like to know how it took two months for the PRT to even notice. Its not like we hid them. Spike and Josephine sleep in my driveway during the day and curl up in the alleyway at night. Christ, Taylor takes the dogs for walks!"

"Dogs need their exercise," I chimed in.

Aegis announced his presence to my dad and Miss Militia with a cough.

"Preliminary interviews with the locals, including a 'Kenta Eikaiwa' and a 'Chao Lee' who spoke vehemently in Taylor's defense, say that Taylor was always pleasant and cheerful, and despite the appearance of the 'dogs,' they were always friendly and playful, somewhere between dogs and cats in their mannerisms. They saw no need to inform the PRT as it wasn't a problem. There are a lot people who live along the route Taylor walks her 'dogs' who are volunteering to be character witnesses. We only found out today because we saw her on patrol."

Miss Militia let out a huff.

"Most of the locals are Asian," she stated.

"Yes, ma'am. Dragon tattoos are very common as well."

"Are you implying that the ABB has been sheltering me? I mean, I've going on walkies in the fringes ABB territory because I'm less likely to be jumped for just being on the street, and druggies are hard to predict."

XXXXX

Later that night, after all the phone conferences and preliminary interviews with the Heberts were all done, Emily Piggot sat in her office staring off into the distance.

Glory Girl had been successfully wrangled into the Wards since she punched, for basically no reason other than to be the glorious heroine, the new parahuman, codenamed 'Broodmother,' and inadvertently caused the violent reaction that killed seven people.

All members of Broodmother's brood had their own instincts, first amongst them was to protect Broodmother at any cost. So when Broodmother was startled or disoriented, they reacted according to those instincts(When Broodmother slept, anything requiring more input than 'move from where I am because something is annoying me' would wake Broodmother into a half-awake state for the member to have a reference, her brood entering combat while she slept hadn't happened yet). As much as Emily wanted to punish Broodmother for those deaths, she couldn't justify it. The one death she could have pinned on Broodmother, who Emily wanted to go away at first, wouldn't make it through the courts, unless it was railroaded.

And if it were railroaded, Shadow Stalker (who was on her way, as Emily sat there, to juvie and pending several new charges) would be outed. The PRT would look like monsters attacking a potentially anti-Nilbog traumatized teenage girl. Then Lung had the balls to call Director Piggot and tell her in no uncertain terms the destruction he would wreak on Brockton Bay if Taylor-chan was mishandled.

And it was decided that, with Broodmother's tentative agreement, Broodmother would replace Nilbog as 'Mayor' of Elisburgh, wiping the Goblin King off the map. It would give Broodmother a place to keep her brood, and through Movers, have a brood large enough to combat Endbringers. Given that 'Spike' had just moseyed through anti-vehicular fire and destroyed a few trucks, they had a very good chance of hurting the Endbringers without ever having a single Parahuman casualty.

And so Emily sat in her office unsure of whether to squeal with joy at giving Nilbog his, or cry in that she had to let another Nilbog live.

Just to top it all off, Broodmother acted like a mother to all of her creations and thought each and every single one of those nightmare inspiring monsters was cute.

Emily dialed her secretary.

"I'm going to get very drunk in the Director's suite. I will be in at nine tomorrow."

And hung up.

Getting drunk was a good plan. With that done, Emily stood up and waddled off to her private rooms to get twice the legal limit drunk without having anybody listening in to the state secrets she might babble.

She snorted in amusement as she locked her office. The 'Eager Eight' were named after Santa's Reindeer. How silly. Such a terrifying power, and she names the little monsters after reindeer.

XXXXX

A/N: I hope all of you enjoy your Emperor's Day gift! Enjoy your holiday and help me enjoy mine by leaving a review?


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